


you don't have to go home but you can't stay here

by wonuza



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Bar/Pub, Drunken Flirting, Flirting, Fluff, Karaoke, Kissing, M/M, Making Out, Resolved Sexual Tension, Sexual Tension, cat said it's fluff so. fluff it is, just copious amounts of flirting at varying stages of inebriation, lots of lingering contact and Touchie, wonwoo has a tongue ring. deal with that nonsense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-20
Updated: 2017-08-20
Packaged: 2018-12-17 18:59:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11857680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wonuza/pseuds/wonuza
Summary: “You know, ‘cellar door’ is supposed to be the most beautiful phrase in the English language, or something.  Wonder if Bret Michaels was thinking about that when he wrote this.”His name is Soonyoung, and he’s Wonwoo’s regular.  (The first time Hansol had referred to him as such, Wonwoo hated it—it sounds much too affectionate for what is, at best, a totally casual run of the mill employee/customer relationship—but it’s grown on him.  Much like Soonyoung.)





	you don't have to go home but you can't stay here

**Author's Note:**

> so. hi. this was written for soonwoonet's first anniversary fluff fest, and as it is not only the first snwu i'm posting but also the First Fic I Am Posting i just have some soft rants to get out of the way
> 
> cat: thank you so much for finding me. i've told you before how much swn means to me, but it is so so much and it always bears repeating. i treasure you and our bitter dms more than you know. old line for lyfe
> 
> olivia: LEGENDS ONLY!!! my favorite snwu writer and my Hell Sister. thank you for being the Most supportive while i tortured you with wips and took 6 months to finally finish something. i'm love u and so do these karaoke boys.
> 
> kristen: my bff who i dragged into snwu hell, thank you for being the first person to tell me i should write soonwoo before you had even fallen for svt. look at us now :')
> 
> to the rest of swn, i am very happy to be your vodka aunt, proud to represent our tiny but growing #oldline even though 98z still reigns supreme, so lucky to be one of the people you all share your incredible talents with, and most of all i'm so glad i get to love on these two sweetest of boys with all of you. i really hope you like this. happy birthday to us !!!

 

 

> **TALK DIRTY TO ME (1986)  
>  in the style of POISON  
>  bpm: 158 | key: G | 3:42**

People who didn’t know him, and honestly, some who did, often wondered how Wonwoo ended up the assistant manager of a karaoke bar.  As sick as he was of hearing it, sometimes Wonwoo himself wondered too—more of a ‘why am I still doing this to myself’ wonder, since he knew how he got here, but still—tonight, which happened to be 80’s night, was one such night.

He had begged Josh he didn’t know how many times to take pity on him and narrow the 80’s down to one of its many tolerable sub-genres—some nice post-punk, maybe, or even some new wave—but, well.  Josh didn’t exactly have a history of taking pity on him, did he, in situations managerial or otherwise.  So 80’s night remained just 80’s night, no matter what a broad stroke it was, and the same songs got sung each time it rolled around, sometimes more than once a night, depending on how annoying the patrons were.  Presently, Mingyu (a regular who was _very_ annoying) was on his second increasingly awful rendition of Talk Dirty to Me, which is what got Wonwoo started considering his place in the universe, and by proxy, his place at Mike’s—it’s short for Mike Rophone’s, and that’s always where these ponderings end up; he doesn’t know how he got so attached to this place when Rophone is definitely not a last name, and no one named Mike has ever owned the bar or even worked here, and it’s also just the absolute worst name of all time.  No one else can figure it out either, judging by how many times he’s been asked _what’s someone like you doing in a place like this?_

‘Someone like him’—he wonders if he should be offended by that, but doesn’t really care enough to dwell on it.  People usually just meant the fact that he was covered in tattoos, or wore black nail polish, or apparently looked far too cool to be working in this cheesy place (and if he said he never felt even a little too cool for it, he’d be lying.)  As for how he ended up here, the answer was Josh, and as for why he was still here—his coworkers would probably say Josh again, but Wonwoo doesn’t think that’s true, or at the very least, it hasn’t been for awhile.  Truthfully, he just likes it.  He likes it a lot, which is ridiculous, because there are a lot of things about it that, by all accounts, should make him hate it.  The constant having to interact with customers, the fact that a good two-thirds of the customers are awful, the loudness, the bad singing, Mike Rophone, the late nights, the sticky surfaces, the nightly scrub-downs of puke (if he’s lucky) from the bathroom floors (if he’s lucky), and did he _mention_ Mike Rophone?  Somehow, though, when he thinks about his job as a whole, he’s happy with it; he likes making drinks, and he likes his co-workers, and it just feels right.

When Talk Dirty to Me starts up for a third time, however, he’s definitely wondering why he’s here.

He snaps out of his thoughts when he’s asked to make a drink:  a strawberry daiquiri for a girl who looks to be nursing a headache and keeps glaring over toward Mingyu.  Wonwoo hasn’t seen her here before, so he figures she probably didn’t realize this was a karaoke bar when she came in, and he feels for her; he hadn’t realized either when he applied for the job based solely on the manager’s cute facebook photo, and “Mike’s” is pretty innocuous without “Rophone” stuck on the end.  He gives her her drink on the house, and glances down the bar, his gaze moving from face to face in vague recognition, all the way to the end where there’s a boy with ice blue hair singing along quietly into his drink.  Wonwoo grins and moves toward him.  He doesn’t look up as Wonwoo approaches, but seems to have noticed him, because he starts speaking anyway.

“You know, ‘cellar door’ is supposed to be the most beautiful phrase in the English language, or something.  Wonder if Bret Michaels was thinking about that when he wrote this.”

His name is Soonyoung, and he’s Wonwoo’s regular.  (The first time Hansol had referred to him as such, Wonwoo hated it—it sounds much too affectionate for what is, at best, a totally casual run of the mill employee/customer relationship—but it’s grown on him.  Much like Soonyoung.)

“Oh, absolutely.”  Wonwoo leans down in front of Soonyoung, chin in hand.  “He’s not actually singing about dirty talk.  He just wants her to say a bunch of phonaesthetically pleasing words in his ear.”

“Phonaesthetically,” says Soonyoung, impressed.  “Nice.”  He finishes off his drink.  “Talk Dirty to Me is actually a sapiosexual anthem.  Who knew.”  He looks at Wonwoo expectantly out of the corner of his eye as he says it, probably to see if it’ll make Wonwoo laugh, which it does. Soonyoung beams with pride, like he does every time he gets a reaction out of Wonwoo.  He leans forward, stage whispering “I don’t think this guy gets the true meaning of the song,” as Mingyu pelvic thrusts around the stage (it’s more of a small raised platform, but stage is less syllables, and most of the people here are drunk, so stage it is.)  “I do wish he’d move on to something else.”

“Yes, well, if I had known Mingyu was going to show up I never would have scheduled Seokmin to MC tonight.  He tends to let people he wants to see naked do whatever they want up there.”  Wonwoo watches Seokmin clap and laugh as Mingyu sings.  “No accounting for taste.”

Soonyoung snorts, then goes into a fit of giggles.  Wonwoo has learned that he’s apparently incredibly hilarious when Soonyoung is drunk.  He laughs along with Soonyoung, because why not?  It’s kind of his job.

Then there’s the sound of a door opening, and Soonyoung’s eyes flick behind and to the left of Wonwoo, who straightens up just as Josh places a hand on his back.  It’s gentle, like everything about Josh, but Wonwoo still has to try not to stiffen noticeably.  When he glances back down at Soonyoung he’s got one eyebrow raised and this knowing look on his face, so he guesses he probably did not succeed.

“I’m heading out,” Josh says.  “When you open tomorrow, can you clean the front windows?”  He gives Wonwoo an apologetic look.  “They’re streaky.”

“Sure,” Wonwoo replies, catching his eye just long enough to give him a tight lipped smile.  “Have a good night.”  Josh’s usual smile falters at Wonwoo’s shortness with him.  

“Right.  You too.”  He then heads toward Hansol, who’s closing tonight.  Wonwoo knows his eyes linger on his back as he leaves, and wishes hard that Soonyoung would let it slide.  Instead, Soonyoung clears his throat mischievously, and Wonwoo sighs.  “Yes?”

Soonyoung puts his hands up.  “I didn’t say anything.”  He pushes his empty glass toward Wonwoo with one finger.  “Can I have another, please?”

“No.”

“I didn’t say anything!”

Wonwoo raises his chin in defiance, shaking his head.  Soonyoung grins.  “I’m going to report you to the board, or something.  Whatever gets bartenders in trouble.  You can’t just refuse service to a paying customer.”

“We reserve the right to refuse service to anyone.  It’s on a sign somewhere in here.”

“Come on, Wonwoo.  After all we’ve been through?”  Soonyoung leans a cheek onto one closed fist and bats his eyes up at him.  “Really, they should be free at this point.”

‘All they’ve been through’ amounts to lots and lots of drinks being served over the course of about half a year, but it’s turned out to be enough time to strike up whatever odd flirtatious half-friendship they’re cultivating.  The other bartenders give him shit for it, but it’s not like he’s _really_ flirting anyway.  It’s _bartender_ flirting, and it is totally different.

“I don’t see you giving me any free movie tickets.”

Soonyoung makes a face.  “Because I don’t hate you?  My place of employment is a lot more disgusting than yours.”  He grins.  “And there are _far_ better things I could treat you to.”

Wonwoo grins back, because it’s his job, right?  That’s what he tells himself, anyway, and the tiny jump his heartbeat may or may not have given fades as soon as Josh hesitantly waves goodbye to him one more time.  Wonwoo looks away from his retreating back, over to Hansol, who gives him a look and shakes his head at him from the other end of the bar, then back to Soonyoung, who’s still gazing up at him, warm and tipsy, if slightly less smiley.  Talk Dirty to Me ends for the third time, and Mingyu bows, nearly tipping off the stage.  Soonyoung straightens up a little and taps on the counter insistently.  Wonwoo raises an eyebrow.

“Did you drive tonight?”

“No.  My friend is…somewhere.”  He makes a move like he’s going to look around for her, but gives up halfway and slouches back down onto the bar.  “She’ll drag me away when she’s ready to go.”

“Is _she_ drinking?”

Soonyoung sighs, pure exasperation evident on his face.  “No,” he says petulantly, and Wonwoo thinks he seems far too much like a 7 year old to be drinking.  He’s interrupted from this train of thought when Soonyoung smirks, and looks up at him through heavy eyelids.  “Worried about me?”

“It’s only 10.  You’ll be hammered by the end of the night.”

“Only if you start doing your job.”

He sighs.  “What did you have?”

He mixes up Soonyoung’s drink of choice—a sex on the beach, because he’s that kind of person—as Soonyoung’s attention wanders over to the stage, where Seokmin is looking for his next victim.  He turns back as Wonwoo finishes his drink, and he wrinkles up his nose.  “Shit.  I forgot to—“

“Pineapple instead of orange juice,” Wonwoo says, sliding the glass toward him.  “I know.”  The opening chords of Don’t Stop Believing start up, causing a chorus of groans and cheers to echo around the bar.  Soonyoung gives a tiny, satisfied ‘ahhh’ and softly claps his hands a few times as he looks at his drink, then back up at Wonwoo.

“Hansol never remembers.  And I _always_ forget to tell him.  Why do you let me let anyone but you make my drinks?”

“So you appreciate how well I do my job.”  He leans his elbows on the bar so he’s back at eye level with Soonyoung as most of the patrons in the bar break into the first verse of Don’t Stop Believing, and raises his voice just a bit so he can be heard.  “Absence makes the heart grow fonder.”

Soonyoung’s eyes go twinkly and he takes a sip of his drink.  “That it does, Wonwoo.”

 

 

> **SEND MY LOVE (TO YOUR NEW LOVER) (2015)  
>  in the style of ADELE  
>  bpm: 82 | key: D | 3:41**

Most nights, Wonwoo’s break consists of ducking out back for a cigarette and being beckoned back inside before he’s even finished it when Seungkwan breaks the karaoke machine or Minghao forgets how to make a bloody mary.  Tonight, however, Josh is tending bar (rare) meaning he’s finished his managerial duties early (even rarer) or he’s saving them for his assistant manager to handle (incredibly likely.)  Still, extra work isn’t the worst thing Josh has ever done to Wonwoo, and as a result, Wonwoo gets a downright luxurious half hour break, so he’s counting it as a win.  He chooses to use it hurrying to the diner across the street, and there’s only one other person in line when he walks up to the counter.  It’s not until they speak that Wonwoo realizes it’s Soonyoung.  

His hair is highlighter yellow today, and he’s got a blue sweater pulled on (inside out) over the black polo shirt of his work uniform.  Wonwoo considers saying something, but doesn’t, because it occurs to him that he’s not sure if they’re friends—honestly, Soonyoung might well consider them strangers.  Bartender relationships are ambiguous.  Either way, Soonyoung looks to be on his break as well, and he doesn’t want to disturb him.

Soonyoung finishes ordering and steps back to wait as the cashier says “next”, his eyes flicking toward Wonwoo then lighting up in recognition.  (Recognition, right?  Recognition.)  Wonwoo gives him a nod, then orders his own food.  He smiles at Soonyoung as he turns around.

“Are you cheating on Mike’s with this place?”

Soonyoung feigns shock.  “You think I would cheat on Mike Rophone?”  Wonwoo’s eyes practically roll out of his skull, and Soonyoung smiles.  “It’s just that I can’t exactly sneak a…a…whiskey neat on my lunch break.”

“More like a raspberry cosmo?” laughs Wonwoo.  “I think you’d cry if you drank whiskey.”

“I did drink whiskey once, and I think I did cry.  It’s poison.”  Soonyoung gets an evil grin as he realizes what he’s said, and he launches into an impression of Mingyu from the other night.  Wonwoo lets him get as far as “behind the bushes” before shushing him through his laughter.

Soonyoung laughs too.  “Anything interesting going on over there?”

Wonwoo shrugs.  “Singer/songwriter night.  Lots of Ed Sheeran.  It’s getting old.”  Soonyoung nods in acknowledgment.  “It’s busy, though.  It’s nice to get out.”

The cashier comes out from the kitchen with a bag of food and nods at Soonyoung.  He takes it, turning to Wonwoo.  “I’m afraid this is the last you’ll see of me tonight, Wonwoo.”  

“Good,” Wonwoo jokes.  “You’re incredibly distracting.  I do my job much better when you’re not around.”

“Ha ha,” deadpans Soonyoung.  “There’s a Lord of the Rings screening on.  The entire saga.”  He checks the time on his phone.  “They’re about halfway through Two Towers by now.”

“I would so much rather be watching Two Towers than going back to work.”

“And I would rather be drinking.  If I have to yell at one more nerd for giving a blow job, I swear to god...”  He pulls a face and shakes his head very quickly.  “I would definitely rather be drinking.”

Wonwoo wrinkles his nose, half in amusement, half in disgust.  “Are people really giving blow jobs during Lord of the Rings?”

The look in Soonyoung’s eye when he responds is deadly serious.  “Believe me, Wonwoo.  People will give blow jobs during _anything_.”

“Well, gross.  Have fun, I guess.”

“I won’t.  Bye!”  He turns to leave, gets a few steps, and turns back around.  Wonwoo watches him chew on his lip for a second.  “I have an early shift on Wednesday, though.”  He scuffs one shiny shoe on the floor of the diner.  “Maybe I’ll see you after?”

“You know where to find me.”

Soonyoung smiles.  Wonwoo does too.

He’s still smiling when he returns to the bar, and there’s someone onstage butchering Adele.  His face is blood red, either from embarrassment or some ungodly amount of alcohol Seokmin managed to get down his throat, but he looks happy.  Karaoke does tend to do that.  Mike Rophone works in mysterious ways.

Josh is still behind the bar, and his eyes find Wonwoo not 3 seconds after he comes through the door, as if Wonwoo brings some change in the atmosphere with him that he’s attuned to.  He looks a little like a deer caught in headlights for some reason, nervously giving Wonwoo a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes.  Wonwoo watches then as his head turns, attention caught by something else—someone else.  Wonwoo’s smile fades as Josh’s grows, and he leans across the bar to say something in Someone Else’s ear that makes Someone Else duck his head and rub the back of his neck.

“Hey.”

Wonwoo jumps.  It’s Minghao, looking at him with something like pity.  “Yes, Minghao?”

“I thought this,” he gestures between Wonwoo and the bar quickly, “was something we didn’t need to be concerned about anymore.  Do we need to be concerned?”

“No.  God.  I’m allowed to—whatever.  You don’t need to be concerned.”  He makes his way toward the back offices, with Minghao giving a sigh and hurrying close behind him.

“Okay but—”  He shoves between a few customers and catches up to Wonwoo.  “I just don’t want things to be weird?  Weirder?”

They make it to the break room, where Jeonghan is smoking by the open window.  He jumps as they enter, but relaxes when he sees it’s them—that is to say, not Josh, who would confiscate his cigarettes.  Wonwoo shrugs out of his leather jacket and hangs it on one of the hooks on the wall, deliberately leaving a space between his and the one he recognizes as Josh’s.

Minghao looks between the two coats and Wonwoo.  “Dude.”  

He marches over to Jeonghan, taking the cigarette out of his hand and taking a long drag.  He exhales out the window, and turns back to Minghao.

“I’m telling you.  It’s nothing.  It’s just—yeah, it’s still weird, I guess.  But it’s fine.”

Jeonghan squints smugly at him.  “Josh troubles, again?”  He snatches back his cigarette.  “Junnie says you just need to talk to him.”

It’s interesting, Wonwoo thinks, how so many of his co-workers have decided how he feels about Josh, and are intent on giving their two cents as to how to fix the perceived problem.  And by interesting, he means insufferable.

“No one asked him.  Or either of you, for that matter.  And I _have_ talked to him.”  He puts his name tag back on, and grabs an apron.  “Jeonghan, I think you have tables to wait.”  Jeonghan sighs, flicking his cigarette out the window, and Minghao looks helplessly after Wonwoo as he heads back out and behind the bar.

When he gets there, he sidles up next to Hansol, who is entertaining a group of girls—one leans forward to feel his bicep, and Wonwoo rolls his eyes.  “Hello Hansol,” he says, adding on “Ladies,” and nodding toward them.  The girls dissolve into giggles and Hansol fixes him with an amused smile.

Wonwoo returns it, then shoots a meaningful glance toward Josh and Guy, who have moved to a booth, where they’re huddled up and laughing at something on Josh’s phone.  Hansol raises his eyebrows and nods like he understands, then starts pouring his girls another round of drinks.

“His name’s Seungcheol.  They’ve been acquaintances since college—the second time around, I mean, when Josh went back for his teaching degree—and recently reconnected.  I’m not sure if it’s serious, but Josh seems...well, kind of like he got laid.”  He glances out of the corner of his eye at Wonwoo for just a second.  “You okay?”

“ _Yes._ ”  He’d be much more okay if people stopped assuming he wasn’t.  “I’m fine.  I know none of you believe it, but my life actually does not revolve around who Josh Hong is or is not fucking.”

“Don’t worry,” says one of the girls, to his horror.  “He doesn’t know what he’s missing.  You’ll find someone much better, who...appreciates you for...who you are...”  Wonwoo’s nostrils flare as, to his _increasing_ horror, she starts to tear up.  “...Someone who can see how...special you are...”  

She trails off in a wailing sob and her friends converge on her, trying to comfort her.  Wonwoo smirks at Hansol, who just shrugs, and Wonwoo hears him saying “Alright, calm down, here’s your drink, tell us what happened,” as he turns to find someone to wait on.

He does, and as he mixes their drink, he tries to parse out how he’s feeling.  Josh hasn’t dated anyone in awhile—not since Wonwoo’s disastrous confession to him, anyway—and now that he might be Wonwoo feels a little like all the progress he’s sure he’s made in regards to getting over him (no matter what his co-workers say) is being undone.  It’s taken him this long, but it doesn’t feel like he’s free of whatever hold Josh has on him, and this just makes things worse—maybe everyone’s right.  Maybe he does still have feelings for him.

But on the other hand, isn’t it normal or at _least_ understandable to feel weird when your ex-something-or-other starts dating someone else, even if you are totally over them?  Wonwoo doesn’t know.  He’s barely gone a day without seeing Josh since he turned him down, and Josh had seemed adamant that nothing had changed, even though everything had changed, so the lines just got blurrier.  Now, they bounced back and forth between being casually okay with each other and Wonwoo being unable to look Josh in the eye, and it’s left Wonwoo...confused, at best.  It doesn’t feel like heartbreak anymore, just this vague sense of wondering whether this is all there is—sadness and confusion.  He hopes not.

He wishes he had more distracting customers tonight.

 

 

> **DANCING QUEEN (1976)  
>  in the style of ABBA  
>  bpm: 101 | key: A | 3:50**

A few days pass before Josh calls out from his office as Wonwoo walks by in a hurry to start his shift.  Wonwoo figures he's going to be confronted about how he’s been avoiding Josh, but he thought maybe some space would do him good, or help him clear his head, or figure things out, or something.  It hasn't, but he _has_ been able to withstand seeing Seungcheol drop by to visit with Josh the past few nights without wallowing in his feelings too much.

So he’s surprised when Josh says “Hey, Wonwoo.  I’m sorry about the other night.”

He thinks it’s a little late to be apologizing, and for that matter, he really isn’t sure what it is Josh is apologizing _for._ It's not like he needs Wonwoo's approval to date someone.

“What do you mean?”

“Just, when you saw me with Seungcheol.  I was trying to…I didn’t want you to find out that way.”  He’s looking at Wonwoo like he’s fragile, like he’s this sad puppy with an unrequited crush, and it sets Wonwoo off fast.

“Are you serious?”

Josh cocks his head to one side and furrows his eyebrows, giving a short nod.

“We’re adults, Josh—I don’t—I don’t need you to hide your personal life from me, just like I didn’t need you to pretend things have been just fine and normal between us for the past year and a half and act like nothing happened at all?  If you could be like, _real_ , about any of this, for one second, maybe I’d have an easier time moving on.”  Josh looks terrified.  It’s the first time they’ve come anywhere close to having this conversation.  It makes Wonwoo even more angry that he apparently hasn’t been expecting it.

“I—okay?”  His voice shakes.  “Sorry.  I’m sorry.  I just...I wanted us to stay friends?  I didn’t want you to hate me, or be angry with me, I—”

“Whatever.”  Wonwoo snaps.  “It’s fine.”

He spins around, and leaves, slamming the door shut behind him.  Minghao turns around as Wonwoo exits the back, eyebrows raised.  Wonwoo shakes his head at him.  “Where do you need me?”

Minghao regards him for a few seconds in something between worry and skepticism and seems to swallow a question threatening to make its way out, then goes back to the drink he was mixing, jerking his head toward the other end of the bar.  “Your guy is down there, refusing to let me serve him.”  Right.  It's Wednesday.  Despite himself, Wonwoo smiles, and his eyes follow Minghao’s gesture to where Soonyoung sits, munching on peanuts and sipping something that Wonwoo guesses is water since Soonyoung definitely doesn’t do clear liquor.  Tonight, his hair is cotton candy pink, which is adorable, which is confusing, which is annoying.  He’s trying to be angry here, and he doesn’t need Soonyoung’s cute pink head making it difficult.

He makes his way toward him anyway, because he can't just leave his regular hanging, especially when said regular has now noticed him and is watching him expectantly.  

“Loitering is illegal in certain jurisdictions, you know.”

Wonwoo thinks the smile Soonyoung gives him in return has absolutely no business being as bright as the entire sun, but there it is anyway.

“I was waiting, not loitering.  It was very purposeful,” Soonyoung says around a mouthful of peanuts.  “I told you I’d be here tonight.”

“And how blessed we are by your presence.”  

Soonyoung is still smiling.  “Will you make me a drink?”  He sounds almost nervous when he asks, which is weird, since making him a drink is Wonwoo’s literal job.  Wonwoo nods, and Soonyoung continues: “I want something blue.  What’s the prettiest thing you can make me that’s blue?”

Wonwoo laughs, because it’s just about the most Soonyoung thing he’s ever heard, then considers his question.  “How fucked up do you wanna get?”

Soonyoung raises his eyebrows, looking smug.  “I’m off tomorrow.  How fucked up can you get me?”  It sounds like a challenge.

“Very.”  Challenge accepted.

“Bring it on.”

Wonwoo rummages around for everything he’ll need for this drink, which is a lot, so he tries to make conversation while he looks.

“How was the rest of your night?  Lots of blow jobs?”  Wonwoo ignores Jeonghan’s snort of laughter as he walks by with a tray of empty glasses, apparently hearing this bit of their conversation.

“Oh, tons, but none for me, so…not great.  Yours?”

Wonwoo has a glass in one hand and is just pulling out the blue Curaçao when he spots Josh, heading for the door…wiping his eyes?

“Oh, that’s total fucking bullshit,” Wonwoo can’t help but spit out, slamming the glass down onto the counter.  Soonyoung jumps in surprise, sitting up and spinning around to follow Wonwoo’s eyeline.  He turns back to Wonwoo, eyes wide, but doesn’t say anything.  Wonwoo’s shoulders sag a little and he squeezes his eyes shut, rubbing one hand across his forehead.  He doesn’t know why he’s surprised.  Josh hasn’t really been great about considering Wonwoo’s feelings through this whole thing, so why would he start now?

“Hey.  Wonwoo.”

He cracks one eye open, apprehensive.  He doesn’t want to talk about this.  He doesn’t need to hear about it from yet another person who won’t try to understand.

“Yes?”

Soonyoung reaches over and taps the hand Wonwoo still has covering the top of the glass with one finger.  “I don’t pay you to stand around and looked pissed off, no matter how good you are at it.”  He grins, soft and hesitant.

Wonwoo looks at him for a moment before breathing out a small laugh, nodding.  He looks down and Soonyoung’s finger is still resting on his knuckle.  Soonyoung doesn’t move it, opting instead to slide his thumb up the side of Wonwoo’s pointer finger, then back down, slowly.  There’s a tangible moment of Soonyoung realizing what he’s doing and snapping out of it, shaking his head a little and removing his hand from Wonwoo’s.

The sounds of the bar seem to fade to a dull buzz.  Wonwoo furrows his brows, because he’s feeling quite a strong and confusing mix of different emotions right now, but he chooses to ignore them and start in on Soonyoung’s drink.  It's one he’s made a thousand times, but he suddenly feels a twinge of nervousness knowing Soonyoung is watching him do it.  When he finishes, it’s a bright sky blue, and he holds it out to Soonyoung.  “Pretty enough?”

Soonyoung makes a point of looking up from the glass to Wonwoo’s face before cocking his head and saying lightly, “The prettiest.”  Wonwoo can’t even begin to unpack that series of events, so he just hands the glass to him and watches him takes a sip.  “Oh my god,” Soonyoung says after he swallows, eyes squeezed shut.  Wonwoo’s nose scrunches up in amusement.  “You _do_ want to get me fucked up.”

Wonwoo goes back and forth between other customers and Soonyoung for the majority of his shift—by the time 1am rolls around, the crowd has thinned and Soonyoung has had 4 more AMFs and is happily sloshed out of his mind.  He even gets on stage and sings—Dancing Queen, and he does a surprisingly good job—and it’s all incredibly enjoyable to witness until he brings up Josh.

“Wonwoo,” Soonyoung starts, stretching his arms up over his head and arching his back.  “I hope you don’t get mad if I say this.  I don’t know if it’s a secret.  But don’t you think…?  I mean, you and Josh...”  He’s slurring his speech a little, and it’s endearing enough that Wonwoo almost doesn’t care about the subject matter.

Still, though, his face darkens and he stiffens up a little.  “Yeah, I know, we’re nothing alike.”  Soonyoung sticks out his lips in an exaggerated pout at Wonwoo, raising his hand like he’s about to make a point, and doesn’t say anything for a good 10 seconds.  “You’re cut off from these, by the way.”

Soonyoung waves a hand, almost dismissively.  “What?  No.  You’re _too_ alike.”  Huh.  Wonwoo had always thought he and Josh were alike, which is why he bristled when people pointed out the superficial contrasts between them, but he had never thought they were _too_ alike.  He opens his mouth to ask Soonyoung to elaborate just as Soonyoung continues: “You’re both...secret nerds.”  

“How do you know Josh is a secret nerd?” Wonwoo asks, laughing and remembering that Soonyoung is in fact incredibly drunk, and maybe he shouldn’t be giving so much thought to what he’s saying.  “How do you know I am?”

“Joshie and I have a mutual friend.  We’ve ended up at the same party more than once recently.”  Since when did Josh go to parties?  “And as for you,”  Soonyoung beams up at him incredibly fondly, and Wonwoo forgets about Josh’s sudden partygoing ways.  That’s concerning.  “It’s just very, very obvious.  Anyone who can’t see it is not paying attention.”

Wonwoo watches as Soonyoung takes the straw out of his empty glass and struggles to balance it upright on the countertop.  “People can be alike and still date, you know—not that I want to date him.”  It feels important that Soonyoung knows he doesn’t want to date Josh, because it’s the truth, and for no other reason.

“Sure they can.  But it doesn’t mean they _should_.  Just...I’m drunk.  What I’m trying to say,” Soonyoung sits up straighter, like what he has to say is extremely important, “Is even if you think someone is the best person for you at a certain moment in time, it doesn’t really necessarily mean that they are the best person because of the reasons you think, because being in a relationship can be really different from just being friends with someone, and also you might just be attached to the idea that they are good for you and they might not really actually be.  Good for you.  They might not be good for you.”  Soonyoung squints at Wonwoo.  “Does that make sense?”  

Wonwoo stares, highly entertained, as Soonyoung rambles.  Somewhere in there, though, he thinks there _was_ something that made sense, so he considers for a few moments.  When Josh had turned him down, he’d said he didn’t think they would be a good fit in _that way_ , which Wonwoo hadn’t understood.  Maybe he’d been too attached to the idea of Josh being good for him to consider the possibility that he wasn’t.

“It actually kind of does.  You’re a very insightful drunk.”

Soonyoung smiles widely and gives him a peace sign before laying his head down on the counter.  “You are so nice, Wonwoo.  The nicest and cutest.  Best drink maker.”  Wonwoo shakes his head in amusement.  He doesn’t know about all that, but it’s pretty nice to hear.

The clock ticks towards 2am, and Wonwoo shuffles the last couple of stragglers out, making sure anyone too drunk has either a cab or someone willing to get them home safe.  It had been a slow night, so Hansol had cleaned the bathrooms and Wonwoo had sent him home early.  He had been able to clean up sufficiently around the three people who were left at closing time—the last of whom was Soonyoung, presently slumped over the bar, looking to be out cold.  Wonwoo chews on his lip, unsure of what to do.  It occurs to him he didn’t ask if Soonyoung drove himself tonight.  Hesitantly he puts on hand on Soonyoung’s shoulder and shakes.

“Soonyoung…”  There’s no response, and Wonwoo is afraid for a second he may be dead.  He leans down, and can see Soonyoung’s eyelids fluttering just a little.  Alive, then, at least.  “Soonyoung,” he tries again, quieter, hand still on his shoulder.  He whines a little, running a hand through his hair before squeezing his eyes shut hard and then opening them to look at Wonwoo.

“Hi,” he says softly, and Soonyoung blinks at him.  Wonwoo can’t help but smile at how out of it he is.  “It’s after two.  Did you drive?”

Soonyoung shakes his head, rubbing his eyes.  “No.  But…”  He pulls out his phone, with some difficulty, and appears to read a text.  “I guess getting laid is more important than taking me home.”  He stretches, then glares at Wonwoo.  “I thought I asked you to get me drunk, not dead,” he says, voice hoarse.

Wonwoo snorts.  Soonyoung makes half-hearted sobbing noises, closing his eyes again and pouting.  When he stops and opens his eyes he just looks at Wonwoo, who becomes acutely aware of how close they are, and the fact that his hand is still on Soonyoung’s shoulder.  He moves it, resisting the random urge he feels to smooth Soonyoung’s hair, or something equally inappropriate, and stands straight.

“Come on,” he says.  “Tell me where you live.”

He manages to maneuver Soonyoung out the door and into his car.  Immediately, he pulls his legs up in front of him and leans against his head against the window, eyebrows furrowed.  He looks very small curled up in the passenger seat like that.  It’s cute, and the pink hair seriously doesn’t help matters, and Wonwoo is already confused enough about why he didn’t just call Soonyoung a cab.  Whatever.  He’s helping out a friend.  An acquaintance.  Customer.  _Whatever_.

It’s lucky Wonwoo ends up knowing the neighborhood Soonyoung lives in, because his drunken explanation isn’t the most helpful.  He’s dozed off by the time Wonwoo pulls into what he’s pretty sure is Soonyoung’s apartment complex.

“Soonyoung.  Hey.   _Soonyoung_.”

Soonyoung slowly blinks awake, looking disgruntled.

“Wake up and tell me which one of these is you.”

He sits up, looking around to get his bearings.  “Over there,” he says, pointing out of the passenger window, then rolling his neck and stretching his arms up until they hit the ceiling of Wonwoo’s car.  Wonwoo pulls around to where Soonyoung pointed, and Soonyoung gets out of the car, fishes his keys out of his jacket pocket, and promptly drops them.

Wonwoo rolls down the window as he shuts the car door.  “Do you need me to walk you in?”

Soonyoung leans down, sticking his head through the window.  “You act as if I’ve never had to find my way home drunk before.  I’m fine.”  There’s a pause, and then: “You can if you want, though.”

So Wonwoo makes sure Soonyoung makes it up the stairs, and after a few unsuccessful attempts at unlocking his door, Wonwoo takes his keys from him and does it for him.  He makes eye contact with Wonwoo before opening the door to go in, and the look he’s giving him seems to imply something, but Wonwoo isn’t sure what.   Just as he starts to try to figure out what it is, there’s movement from inside the apartment.  Soonyoung looks away from Wonwoo and focuses on the front window as the curtains push aside to reveal another boy, who looks back and forth between the two of them for a second, then wags his finger at Soonyoung, squinting and shaking his head.

“My roommate,” Soonyoung sighs.  “He’s quite young.  Doesn’t understand the nuances of adult life, yet.”  He looks Wonwoo up and down and sighs again, then puts one hand on the doorknob, and salutes Wonwoo with the other.  “Thanks for the ride, stud.”

What on earth is that about, Wonwoo wants to say.  “Good night, Soonyoung,” is what makes it out, and Soonyoung smiles, sleepily, but still enough to make his eyes crinkle up, before disappearing into his apartment.

What on earth indeed.

 

 

> **LADY STARDUST (1972)  
>  in the style of DAVID BOWIE  
>  bpm: 88 | key: G | 3:21**

The next night, Josh is off work.  He shows up at Mike’s with Seungcheol anyway.

Several factors had coincided to create Wonwoo’s current state of mind. First:  he had gotten home extra late last night, what with going out of his way to drop Soonyoung off, and when he had finally crawled into bed his mind just kept replaying that look Soonyoung had given him, not to mention _thanks for the ride, stud._  He had ended up doing less sleeping and more trying to figure out why that had made his heart stutter, to no avail.

Secondly, Jun’s car had blown a tire.  He had called ahead of time, to let them know he would be late, but Jeonghan had thrown a fit at the thought of being the only server on the floor.  Wonwoo, in true assistant manager fashion, had come in early to help until Jun was back on the road.  

Thirdly, he had been looking forward to not seeing Josh today, a hope that was dashed when he and Seungcheol had arrived around midnight.  Presently, at 1am, Wonwoo has been in this bar for nine hours, the last of which has been spent watching Josh canoodle with his new boyfriend, and he is so tired.

Wonwoo knows it’s irrational to be this affected by Josh on a date when he’s supposed to be over him.  He wonders if maybe he had gotten enough sleep he would be fine with this, or if he hadn’t come in early.  He’s not sure.  The only thing he’s sure of is that this does not feel good.  It doesn’t hurt, it’s not like he feels his heart breaking all over again at the sight of them; it just doesn’t feel good.  It doesn’t feel good to know he wasn’t good enough, and have to stare all night at Seungcheol, who apparently is, and compare himself endlessly to him.  He can’t help it.  It’s not even that Wonwoo wants to date Josh.  It’s just—

His head hurts.  He’s so tired.  He just wants to go home.

Wonwoo is about to try to find a hole to crawl into so he can attempt to sort any of this out when Soonyoung comes through the door.  He almost doesn’t spot him, because his hair is black tonight which makes him stand out significantly less, but for some reason Soonyoung still lights up the entire establishment, so he’s hard to miss.  Wonwoo watches him scan the room, eyes landing on the bar, and then Wonwoo.  He gives a small wave, then walks over.

“Hi.  Wow.  Sorry about last night?”  He looks a little embarrassed, which is a new look on him, but he takes a seat at the bar anyway.

Wonwoo laughs, but he’s so tired it’s more of a hum.  “I’m surprised you remember that.”  He grabs a glass.  “Drink?”

“No, I’m okay,” says Soonyoung, then he wrinkles his nose.  “And I don’t.  Remember, that is.  My roommate told me a guy with tattoos brought me home, though.”  He gives a small smile.  “You didn’t have to do that.”

“No big deal.  Although your roommate didn't seem to like me.”  Wonwoo returns the glass to the rack.  

Soonyoung frowns, and looks genuinely distressed at the prospect.  “Chan doesn't like when I get that drunk.  And when he saw you he probably—never mind.  I'm sure that was all it was.” He bites his lip before asking “Did I do anything embarrassing?”

“Depends how embarrassing you find Abba.”

“I _sang?_ ”  Soonyoung cringes.  “Oh my god.”

“You gave me some weirdly sage advice, too.”  He leaves out the excessive flirting.  “It was a fun time.”  He sighs.  “Better than tonight.”

He thinks he sees Soonyoung looking concerned for a second before Josh and Seungcheol get up to leave.  They don’t say goodbye—that is, Josh does not say goodbye, doesn’t acknowledge Wonwoo at all as they make their way out.  That’s fine.  What would either of them have said, anyway?  Wonwoo sighs, and feels even more tired than before.  He glances back at Soonyoung, who’s still looking at him, head cocked to one side.  Wonwoo gives a half-hearted fake smile, deflating a little, but still feeling relieved that at least he’s done bearing witness to Josh’s date.

Slowly, the last customers start to filter out, and Wonwoo and the others start cleaning up.  When they’re done, the employees leave too, and when Wonwoo gets the very last patron shuffled through the door and into a cab, he’s left with Soonyoung, still sitting at the bar.  It’s 2am, and he’s exhausted, but Soonyoung’s black hair looks really nice, and he can’t bring himself to make him leave.  So instead, he sits down on the stool next to him, resting his head in his hands and squeezing his eyes shut.

When he opens them again, Soonyoung is watching him discerningly.  “You look _tired_.”

Among other things.  “Extremely.”  He looks around the bar, and says “I have to finish closing up,” though he doesn’t make a move to do so.

“I know.  Are you in a hurry, though?”  

Wonwoo stares.  “I mean, I’ve been here for 10 hours.”  He pauses.  “Why?”

“Because.  I want to talk.  And I think you could use someone to listen.  Actually, you know what—“  Wonwoo watches in horror as Soonyoung stands up and hops onto his freshly cleaned bar, swinging himself over and behind it.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he asks.  “We’re closed.  You can’t stay here.  There’s a well known phrase about it.”

Soonyoung looks down at him, one eyebrow raised.  “So kick me out, assistant manager.”  He has a look like he knows Wonwoo won’t, so Wonwoo just sighs.  Soonyoung smiles.  “That’s what I thought.”

“You’re not allowed back there,” Wonwoo says weakly, and Soonyoung laughs.

“Listen.  You just look like you need to get some stuff off your chest.”  He gets out a glass, sits it on the bar, then hesitates.  “I don’t know your drink.  Or how to make anything besides like, water.  Or crunk juice, if you’ve got Red Bull.”

“I probably shouldn’t drink.”

“I mean, you don’t have to get _drunk_.  But listen, I owe you one, right?  If you do want to get drunk I’ll just take you home.  We’ll be even.”

Wonwoo squints at Soonyoung, considering.  He doesn’t look at all like he’s going to take no for an answer, so Wonwoo gestures behind him.  “You can just...hand me something alcoholic.”

“No, I want to make something!  You can teach me.”  It’s kind of adorable, how excited he gets.

Wonwoo thinks it over for a second, trying to come up with something easy.  “Okay.  You need vodka, rum, and orange juice.”

Soonyoung scans the shelves of the back bar until he finds the vodka.  “Just regular?  You’ve got a thousand flavors.”

“Yes, regular.”  He stretches one arm out on the bar and lays his head on it.  Soonyoung grabs a bottle of vodka, then stands on his tiptoes so he can reach the next shelf up for the rum.  He pauses.

“Any of these?” he asks, turning around enough to see Wonwoo.  He nods, and Soonyoung reaches for one.

“Oh, not that one, sorry.  Bacardi is awful.  Get the one next to it—other side—that one.  The orange juice is over there.”  Wonwoo points lazily in the direction of the orange juice, and Soonyoung brings everything to the bar and sits it down, looking at him expectantly.

He yawns before answering.  “Pour equal amounts of everything in the glass.”

Soonyoung does so, incredibly carefully.  His tongue pokes out in concentration as he pours each liquid, leaning down close to the glass and making sure the amounts are as close to the same as possible—it’s very endearing.  Wonwoo smiles as he watches, eyelids heavy.  When Soonyoung is done, he straightens up, beaming.  “What now?”

“Stir it up and you're done.”

Soonyoung deflates a little.  “That’s it?”  Reluctantly he grabs a stirrer.  He pouts.  “You went easy on me.”

Wonwoo laughs.  “You have no prior mixology experience.  I had to.”  Soonyoung finishes stirring, and sits the glass down in front of Wonwoo, who raises his head enough to take a sip.

Soonyoung, apparently, is a fast learner.

“Well.  Congratulations,” he says.  “You just made a perfectly respectable brass monkey.”

A slow smile starts to spread across Soonyoung’s face.  “Respectable?”

Wonwoo smiles back.  “Good.  It’s good.  I’m impressed.”  Soonyoung lights up with pride, then he tries to turn his face serious, kind of succeeding, but still too excited about his drink to go all the way.

“So,” he starts anyway, clearing his throat.  “This Josh business.  Let’s hear it.”

“Hear what?” Wonwoo asks, looking away and taking a long drink.

“It!”

Soonyoung looks at him, waiting, and Wonwoo is too tired to put up a fight.  He gives a long sigh and rubs his eyes.  “We used to be best friends, now we’re not.  I used to like him, now I don’t.”  Soonyoung gestures at him to keep going.  “I told him last year.  It went…well, he’s Josh, so it went fine.  He let me down very gently.”

“Ugh.  There’s your problem.”

“What do you mean?”

“Because!  If they’re _nice_ about it you can’t even be mad at them.  You can’t even be upset.  You have to like, be the bigger person, because they are also being the bigger person.  It’s bullshit.”  It's very matter of fact, the way he says it, and Wonwoo wonders why Soonyoung of all people has such insight into his love life.  “Alright, he very nicely tells you to fuck off, and you don’t get to be mad or process, so you’re still in love with him, or whatever.”

Wonwoo shakes his head emphatically.  “No.  I’m definitely not in love with him.  I don’t even think I like him, really.  But I’m also not exactly over him?  I just—we work together, so I’ve never really gotten any closure, and it's like you said, I haven’t processed, I guess.  And he didn’t change how he treated me after we talked about it, so...nothing feels different.”  Soonyoung is listening intently, and Wonwoo downs more of his drink.  “He said he didn’t want me to hate him, but we’ve been stuck exactly how we were when he shut me down, which wasn’t good on my end.  We’re just in this shitty fucking limbo, with no foreseeable end.”

Soonyoung looks at him—not with pity, it’s more like...anger on his behalf?  When he responds, his tone is serious, probably more serious than Wonwoo has ever heard it.  “That sucks, Wonwoo.  That’s not how you take care of this kind of thing.  I’m sorry.”

Wonwoo sighs, nodding, and gulps down the remainder of his drink.  “You know what?  It really does suck.”  He’s feeling pleasantly buzzed (Soonyoung had maybe been a little heavy handed with the vodka,) and very warm.  “No one here will _listen_ to me about this.  I think they all think Josh is too nice to have actually broken my heart, and that he’s too amazing for me to just get over.  Thank you.”  He pauses, then grabs the rum Soonyoung had used earlier.  “Guess I’m getting drunk tonight.”

“Excellent,” says Soonyoung, triumph evident on his face.  “Don’t you feel better?”

Actually, he does.  He takes several gulps of the rum, then lays his head back on the counter and nods sleepily.  Soonyoung smiles, blindingly, and hops back over the bar, returning to his seat next to Wonwoo.  They’re quiet for a minute or so before he speaks again.

“Why don’t you find another job?”  It catches Wonwoo off guard.  “Sorry,” he continues.  “I know we don’t know each other that well and it’s not really my business.  But you have to see him every day, and you said your coworkers give you a hard time…”

Wonwoo makes a face.  “They do, but...I mean…”  Soonyoung’s eyes widen.

“Oh my god.  You love your job.”  He beams.  “Punk rock Wonwoo loves his corny job!  He _loves_ Mike Rophone.  That’s adorable.”  Wonwoo feels his face color, which Soonyoung picks up on.  “And he’s embarrassed to admit it.  You’re _adorable._ ”

Wonwoo blushes even more, and doesn’t hesitate to blame it on the fact that he’s apparently become a lightweight.  “Shut up.  I’m as surprised as anyone else.”  He takes another drink.  “But I do.  I love my lame job.  It’s _fun._ ”  Soonyoung smiles at him.  “And I’m good at it.  I don’t know, it just felt right once I started.  Like good things would happen for me here.   _Clearly_ ,” he pauses to take a drink.  “That has not been the case thus far.  So I guess I’m just...still waiting.  For the thing.”  He scrunches up his face in disgust.  “I’m an idiot.”

“You’re a romantic,” Soonyoung corrects.  “Quite an interesting development.”  He pauses, seeming to ponder said development, then continues.  “In that case, you can’t leave.  If you love your job, you can’t let some dumb boy with bad taste ruin it for you.  Especially if you still have a good feeling about it despite everything.”  With that, he hops off his stool, and wanders over to the karaoke machine.  He turns back, giving Wonwoo a wry smile, and fires it up.  “And especially if you have constant access to a karaoke machine.”

“Oh my god.”  Wonwoo cringes, looking around as though someone might be watching.  “You’re definitely not allowed to do that.”

“You don’t wanna hear me sing?” Soonyoung calls over his shoulder, not taking his eyes off the screen as he chooses a song.  Wonwoo is secretly impressed with his taste when Lady Stardust starts up.  Soonyoung doesn’t bother picking up a mic, just gestures passionately as he starts singing.

Wonwoo laughs.  “It’s weird watching someone do this sober,” he says over the music.  

Soonyoung turns to face him.  “Are you too cool to sing with me?”

God damn it.  “Yes,” Wonwoo whines, “And I’m so tired.  Please don’t make me.”  Unfortunately, Soonyoung gets an evil grin on his face, which Wonwoo thinks probably doesn't bode well for his chances of _not_ having to sing Bowie.  Soonyoung half dances up to him, still singing, and grabs his hands, trying to get him up off the barstool.  Wonwoo lets him because Soonyoung’s hands are _soft_ and he doesn’t want to pull his own away, and he reluctantly starts singing too.  He doesn’t feel spectacularly steady on his feet, because he has maybe had a bit too much to drink—Soonyoung’s hands shoot to Wonwoo’s waist as he stumbles, and he laughs, but he looks a little wary.

He stops singing long enough to ask, “You okay?”

“Mhm.  Haven’t been drunk in a long time.”  Wonwoo yawns enormously.  “And I’m tired.”  Soonyoung doesn’t respond, though, just stares at him, looking almost angry.  “What?”

“Do you—do you have your fucking _tongue_ pierced?”  Soonyoung ducks his head down, then cranes his neck, apparently trying to find the best angle to see inside Wonwoo’s mouth.

“Oh.  Uh.  Yeah.”  Wonwoo grimaces.  “I usually wear the clear one here...”  He must have forgotten.  “When people notice it they tend to like, ask if it makes me better at blow jobs, or something.  You know.  They fixate.”  Soonyoung stares at him with an expression that’s almost pained, Wonwoo raises an eyebrow.  “Fixate like you’re doing right now, I guess.”

Soonyoung blinks a couple of times.  “I’m not fixated.  Your tongue piercing is just going to haunt me for the rest of my life.  It’s whatever.”

Wonwoo feels extremely shy suddenly, which is weird, since he has had his tongue pierced for quite some time and has heard pretty much everything by now.  In fact, what Soonyoung said was incredibly tame—Wonwoo wonders when his brain forgot what normal reactions were.  He becomes vaguely aware of the fact that Soonyoung is still holding onto his waist.  His brain feels hazy, but he thinks he can feel one of Soonyoung’s thumbs moving along his side, just barely.

Um.

“I should go home, I think,” he says, looking down at Soonyoung.  “But I don’t think I can drive.”  Soonyoung smiles affectionately. 

“Will your car be okay here overnight?  Can you get here tomorrow without it?”  Wonwoo nods.  “Well, just in case...unlock your phone for me.”  Wonwoo does, and Soonyoung taps at the screen for a second.  “Now you have my number, in case you actually need a ride.  Since this is pretty much my fault.”  He hands Wonwoo’s phone back, and Wonwoo feels like he’s missing something, or that he’s just been tricked somehow.  “Okay then, drunky.  Let’s go.”

Wonwoo wakes up the next morning in his bed, fuzzy on the details of how he got there—until he makes his way into the living room, where there’s a note on his coffee table, under his keys.

  
_morning!  hope you slept well.  now we’re even :)_  
_-soonyoung_  
  
_ps you are a really cute drunk._

 

 

> **HEART OF GLASS (1978)  
>  in the style of BLONDIE  
>  bpm: 116 | key: E | 3:22**

Wonwoo isn’t sure how it becomes routine for Soonyoung to hang around after closing, but it does.  He isn’t sure how it gets to the point that they know each other’s work schedules, but it does.  He certainly has no idea when whatever this is started feeling like friendship instead of customer service, or when it started feeling like something else instead of friendship.  But it has.  Soonyoung shows up, sometimes he drinks, sometimes he doesn’t, but every time, he says to Wonwoo, _is it alright if I stay?_  And every time, Wonwoo finds himself saying yes.  

The first time Hansol looks up from balancing the cash register to the sight of Soonyoung sweeping the floor, he just shakes his head, smiling.  “Mike Rophone works in mysterious ways,” he says, shooting a sideways glance at Wonwoo.  Jeonghan and Minghao, on the other hand, are beside themselves, shooting Wonwoo incredulous looks every time they come out from the back offices on their way home and catch Soonyoung wiping down tables or dusting shelves.  

Wonwoo just shrugs.  “He doesn’t even make me pay him,” he says to Jeonghan one night.  “Maybe I should fire you.”  Soonyoung laughs out loud at that, and Jeonghan’s face gets even more confused, and he turns on his heel and leaves, mouth still hanging open as he goes.  Wonwoo is incredibly satisfied with this situation, if only for the fact that it leaves Jeonghan speechless.  (He’s not sure that’s the only reason, at this point, but he’s ignoring that.)

Tonight, Soonyoung is drunk.  He’s mostly coherent, though, and he’ll be safer here than if he leaves.  And he asked to stay, so what can Wonwoo do, really?

“I’m doing the schedule tonight, so it won’t be very exciting,”  Wonwoo says as he sits down in a booth, and Soonyoung slides in next to him.

“Why do you have to make the schedule?”  He sniffs, then hiccups.  “Shouldn’t Joshie do that?  He’s the manager.”

“I don’t know.  Sometimes bosses have to delegate, or whatever.”

“But he’s holed up in the back room all night doing god knows what.  He couldn’t get this done himself then?”  Soonyoung leans against Wonwoo then, rests his head on his shoulder.  “You deserve a break.”

Wonwoo laughs.  “I’m inclined to agree.”

Soonyoung stays leaned up against Wonwoo, watching him plan out the schedule for the next week.  He’s humming something Wonwoo vaguely recognizes as Heart of Glass (he’s learned that while he usually goes for New Order or The Cure, Soonyoung is much more into the 70’s, so he’s been trying to brush up on that decade,) pausing only to offer his opinion of Wonwoo’s schedule every now and then.

“Oh, don’t give Thursday night to Seokmin,” he whines.  “He exhausts me and that’s my only night off this week.”  He pokes Wonwoo in the side, gently.  “ _You_ should work Thursday.  I can come visit you.”

“You visit me all the time,” Wonwoo laughs, and Soonyoung buries his face against Wonwoo’s shoulder, cheek pressing against the vinyl of the booth.  “Besides, Thursday is Disney night.  I hate Disney night.  Every young adult thinks they’re the only young adult who still listens to Disney songs.”

“Please?” comes Soonyoung’s muffled reply.  “I’ll sing.  I’ll sing you a Disney song.”

Tempting.  Wonwoo just grins at him.  “I’m not working Disney night.  I have plans.”

Soonyoung sits up at that, faster than Wonwoo would have thought possible judging by how drunk he is.  “Plans?  What plans?”

“I don’t just live here, you know.  I do occasionally do things.”

“But what plans?”  He’s wide eyed and he looks a little devastated.  “Like a date?”

“…No, it’s not a date.”  Wonwoo says it almost questioningly.  “My brother is visiting.”  They look at each other for a long moment, and Wonwoo gets the distinct impression Soonyoung’s trying to figure out if he’s lying.  He shakes his head, and his brows knit together.  “It’s not a date,”  he says again, quieter.  He contemplates asking why it matters, but decides against it.

Soonyoung seems to believe him, though, because his face softens back into relief, then he takes a deep breath.  “I’ll sing you a Disney song now, then,” he says, grinning, and with that, he gets up to make his way over to the karaoke machine.

Or at least, he tries, but he stands up too fast, or he’s too drunk, or his foot catches on something—either way he ends up facing Wonwoo again and starts to fall, and Wonwoo throws his arms out, catching Soonyoung’s shoulders as Soonyoung grabs the back of the booth.  It steadies him, but it also puts their faces awfully close together—Soonyoung starts out looking like he’s going to laugh, but his smile disappears when he and Wonwoo lock eyes.

Wonwoo’s heartbeat quickens as he and Soonyoung stare at each other—after what feels like minutes he thinks surely Soonyoung will get bored and look away, but instead his gaze drags slowly down Wonwoo’s face and stops on his mouth.  Wonwoo watches him lick his lips and swallow, and he looks up at Wonwoo’s eyes again, questioning, before starting to lean toward him.

It seems to last forever.  Wonwoo has time to try to figure out what he’s feeling, decide he doesn’t care, and accept the fact that he really wants to know if Soonyoung’s lips are as soft as his hands before he realizes: if his past encounters with Wasted Soonyoung are anything to go on, he won’t remember any of this.

“Soonyoung.”  There’s an edge of warning in it that Soonyoung seems to get; he stops moving and looks away from Wonwoo’s lips.  He pouts, but maneuvers himself so he can plop back into the booth next to Wonwoo and lay his head on the table.

“You are absolutely no fun.  Just the no-funnest person in the world.”

Wonwoo swallows, with some difficulty, and clears his throat.  “You’re drunk.”  He chips at the polish on one of his nails nervously.

“So?  You have _your tongue pierced,_ ” he whines.

“I don’t even have a fun one in right now, just a retainer.”

“What do you mean a _fun_ one?!”  Soonyoung turns his head to peek at him with one eye, distress evident on his face.  “God.  Well, deal-breaker.  Didn’t want to kiss you anyway.  Asshole.”

Wonwoo shifts a little in his seat, uncomfortably.  He really wants to snap out of whatever this is.  “I'm starting to think you only like me for my tongue ring.”

Soonyoung pouts again.  “No. There's other things too.”  God.  Wonwoo bites his tongue to keep from—something.  What does that _mean_.  Soonyoung makes another disgruntled face.  “ _Ugh._  Honestly, you’re as bad as Chan.  Just because I’m drunk—just, I, it doesn’t mean—I don’t know.  It doesn’t mean I have no idea what I’m doing.”

Wonwoo is so, so endeared by all of this, and confused by the fact that he’s endeared by it.  He has no idea what Soonyoung is feeling, or what _he’s_ feeling for that matter, beyond endearment and confusion and, most of all, disappointment at not kissing Soonyoung.  He rests his head on the table too, mirroring Soonyoung, who looks at him like there’s a thick layer of fog between them.  He reaches over to cup Soonyoung’s cheek, because he wants to, and he knows he won’t remember, and sighs.  “You’re too drunk,” he whispers, and before he can stop himself, he continues:  “I would have.  I wanted to.”

The tiniest hint of a sleepy grin crosses Soonyoung’s face, and he reaches up for Wonwoo’s hand, slotting his fingers between Wonwoo’s.

It occurs to Wonwoo that he hasn’t had feelings for anyone since Josh.  It occurs to him that maybe he’s forgotten what it’s like.

 

 

> **TOO MUCH (1997)**  
>  in the style of THE SPICE GIRLS  
>  bpm: 80 | key: A | 4:31

It’s not that Wonwoo regrets not kissing Soonyoung.  He’s positive that Soonyoung would not have remembered, and he was so drunk, who knows why he even wanted to?  There were plenty of good reasons not to kiss him, so Wonwoo does not regret it.

It’s just that he really really wishes he could have.

This is how he’s spent his entire morning.  Since taking Soonyoung home last night (and earning another disapproving look from his roommate, who had met them at the door and ushered Soonyoung inside,) his mind hadn’t stopped racing.  He had definitely felt _something_ last night, but he wasn’t sure what; he thinks maybe he has a crush on Soonyoung, which is something of a terrifying prospect.  He has no idea how to have a crush on anyone besides Josh anymore, and he certainly has no idea how to have a crush on someone who keeps flirting with him and might _(might)_ actually reciprocate.  It’s all very stressful, but not as stressful as the fact that any second that hasn’t seen him moping and lamenting his confusing romantic life, he’s just been imagining what it would have been like to kiss Soonyoung, which leads to imagining doing other things with Soonyoung, which really just makes things all the more confusing.  It’s awful.  Having a (possible!) crush on someone is _awful_.

But, well, he already knew that, didn’t he.

Wonwoo’s distress persists through his shift at Mike’s.  At least Josh isn’t there, and he can imagine kissing Soonyoung in relative peace, until Jeonghan snaps at him to stop zoning out or Minghao smacks him in the back of the head and points him toward a waiting customer.

He’s on his break when he gets a text, and his heart swoops when he sees it’s from Soonyoung.  
  
  
_>   are you here?  i can’t find you!!_  
_>  mingyu is singing spice girls save me  
__>  he’s butchering their best song..._

_ <   On break!  
_ _<   I’m out back_

  
Just a minute later, Soonyoung’s head peeks out the door, mint green hair appearing first, then the rest of his face.  He is so cute.  “Hey,” he says, hands shoved in the pockets of his jacket.  “Why are you out here in the rain?”  He sniffles.  Wonwoo holds up his cigarette in answer.  Soonyoung shows no sign of remembering the last time they saw each other.  Wonwoo smiles, but he knows it doesn’t look real, and he knows Soonyoung can tell.  “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.  I don’t know.  Weird night.”

“Is it Josh?”  Wonwoo shakes his head, because for once it’s not, but Soonyoung sighs.  “I wish you would forget about him.”

He shakes his head again, eyebrows furrowing.  “I told you.  It’s not Josh.”  Soonyoung just looks at him, rain blowing in under the awning and dotting his jacket.  He looks—Wonwoo isn’t sure.  “I thought you believed me.  When I said I don’t have feelings for him.”

Soonyoung sighs again.  “I do believe you, but there’s clearly still—just—he doesn’t see you, Wonwoo.”  He scuffs his boot against the sidewalk, glancing down and away from Wonwoo as he does.  “He’s not even looking.”

“Yes, I’m aware of that,” Wonwoo snaps, expression darkening.  He’s suddenly annoyed.  With Soonyoung, with his own stupid feelings that he was _just_ starting to think he had figured out—the whole situation.  “You tried to kiss me the other night, you know.”

The earnest expression Soonyoung had had falls off his face and his eyes go wide.  “What?”

Wonwoo just nods, jaw set, and brings his cigarette back to his lips, trying not to immediately regret saying it even though he can tell it was definitely a mistake.

“I don’t remember that,” Soonyoung says quietly.

“You don’t say.”

“That’s…”  He laughs, nervously.  It sounds a little crazy.  “That’s really embarrassing.”  And he looks it.  His face has gone cherry red, and he’s staring at the ground.  He looks sad.  Wonwoo definitely regrets bringing it up.

A few moments pass before Soonyoung clears his throat and says “…Tried.”  He looks up from the ground, but fixes his gaze across the street instead of on Wonwoo.  “So you stopped me.”

“Of course I stopped you.”

Soonyoung looks at him then and laughs, airy and mirthless.  “Of course you stopped me,” he repeats.

Wonwoo frowns.  “That’s not—Soonyoung, you were wasted—” but Soonyoung isn’t listening.  He takes a few steps backward toward the door.

“No, it’s fine.  Don’t worry about it.  Sorry,” he says, turning around and disappearing inside, leaving Wonwoo stunned and alone.  He feels like an asshole, and like he might cry.  He really shouldn’t have said that.  It takes him a second to realize he should be running after Soonyoung, but by the time he gets back inside and scans the bar, he’s gone.  He considers texting him, but he just stares at the keyboard for a minute before sighing and putting his phone away.  He doesn’t know what to say.

Maybe Soonyoung just needs to cool off, he thinks.  Maybe he’s just embarrassed.  That’s probably it.  It’s fine.  The next time Wonwoo sees him, he can explain that there’s nothing to be embarrassed about.  It’ll be fine.  They’ll clear it up next time.  Wonwoo lets himself calm down, but it only lasts a second before panic starts to set in.  What if there’s no next time?  What if Soonyoung is too embarrassed?  Too upset with Wonwoo?  What if he’s actually just grossed out that he tried to kiss Wonwoo at all?  What if Wonwoo made him think he didn’t like him?  He watches the clock on his phone tick over to 11:30.  He needs to punch back in, and get back to work.

Only he realizes he’s pretty sure he just wondered if he made Soonyoung think he doesn’t like him, which means he likes Soonyoung, and his possible crush is not a possible crush at all, but a confirmed crush, which is just a lot to think about.

He punches in 20 minutes late.

 

 

> **EDGE OF SEVENTEEN (1982)  
>  in the style of STEVIE NICKS  
>  bpm: 108 | key: E | 4:10**

Next time ends up being almost two weeks later.  Soonyoung is with a group of about 5 girls, so he sits with them in a booth instead of at the bar.  Wonwoo wouldn’t have thought much of this if Soonyoung hadn’t made a point of _not_ immediately searching Wonwoo out and waving or smiling or acknowledging him in some other way.  He doesn’t look toward the bar at all.

So, naturally, Wonwoo puts himself near their table as often as possible.  He embraces the title of assistant manager, asking customers if they’re having a good night, if their shitty beer is to their liking, anything he can think of.  He takes trays out of Jun’s hands and delivers drinks himself.  He manages to learn that the girls are Soonyoung’s coworkers from the theater, one of whom is turning 22 tomorrow, and they really wish Kyungwon could have been off work too to come celebrate, and Nayoung and Soonyoung are lucky they don’t go in until late tomorrow so they can get as drunk as they want.  At one point, Wonwoo thinks he hears a hushed _Is that him?_ from one of the girls Soonyoung is with and smiles to himself, until he watches Soonyoung give the girl a glare, shaking his head minutely.

It’s about a half hour before Soonyoung approaches the bar, and orders a few drinks for his table from Hansol.  One of his friends has gone up to sing, and as her song starts Soonyoung looks over to watch her and smiles brightly.  Wonwoo finishes waiting on his customer, then heads in Soonyoung’s direction, seeing this as an opportunity.

“Long time no see,” Wonwoo starts, grinning hesitantly.  “You know you can’t leave me here alone with these people.”

Soonyoung turns away from his friend, who is doing her very best Stevie Nicks, and meets his eyes for just a second.  His smile is gone.  “Mm.”

It does technically count as a response, Wonwoo supposes, but it feels like just a noise.  There’s nothing behind it.  It’s unsettling, and Wonwoo desperately wants to fix it.  “Listen, I’m sorry.  For springing that on you.  I don’t think...I didn’t mean it the way you took it.  I was frustrated.”  Soonyoung looks up at him, face infuriatingly blank.  “Are we alright?”

At this, Soonyoung’s eyebrows raise, and he flashes Wonwoo a wide smile.  “Of course we are.”  There’s nothing behind it.

They’re definitely not alright.

It’s another four nights before Hansol confronts him.  He does it so casually, Wonwoo barely registers that it’s happening.

“You should stop leading your regular on.”

“What?”  He turns toward Hansol, genuinely confused.  “Soonyoung?”

“Yes.  You should stop leading him on.”  He’s currently in the middle of pouring ice into a blender, and he doesn’t look up as he speaks to Wonwoo.

“I’m not leading him on.   _Hansol_ ,” he says as Hansol laughs bitterly.  “I’m not.”

“Well, whatever you did to him, he’s now turned his attention on Minghao, and honestly,” he flits back and forth in front of the liquor shelves, grabbing about four different bottles, “I don’t know what’s more ridiculous.  Before, when he would barely even acknowledge anyone who wasn’t you, unless it was to talk _about_ you, or now, which is just him incessantly flirting with my boyfriend to get back at you.”  He settles back in front of the blender and starts pouring things in.

“…That’s not true.”  

Hansol laughs again as he continues pouring.  “If you’re referring to the first thing, yes it is. A couple weeks ago he asked me your favorite color.  And what do you know,” Hansol gestures toward his own hair, then at Soonyoung.  “Tonight, kid comes in with purple hair.  Don’t get me started on when he found out about your tongue ring.  He was inconsolable.  And if you’re talking about him flirting with Minghao, use your eyes.”

Wonwoo looks over to where Soonyoung and Minghao are talking.  Talking.  Soonyoung’s just talking to him.  Minghao is leaning his forearms against the bar and Soonyoung gingerly places his hand on one of them and he looks like whatever he’s talking to Minghao about is a secret between only the two of them—but they’re just talking.  “Minghao flirts with customers all the time,” says Wonwoo.  “He’s probably just trying to sell drinks.”

Hansol rolls his eyes.  “ _Minghao_ is not the one behaving out of the ordinary.”  With that, he fires up the blender.

Minghao says something that makes Soonyoung laugh and turns to help another customer and as he does Soonyoung’s eyes travel slowly up and down his body, then glance over toward Wonwoo.  It doesn’t even last long enough to be called eye contact, but it makes Wonwoo uncomfortable.  Soonyoung leans his chin in one hand when Minghao returns to him and it’s...unsettling.

Familiar.

“Is this how it looks when he talks to me?”  Wonwoo moves back until he’s right next to Hansol, so he doesn’t have to raise his voice over the blender.  He doesn’t take his eyes off Soonyoung and Minghao.

Hansol glances over to them as well, then turns his attention back to the drink he’s making, seeming largely uninterested.  “It’s less fake when he talks to you.”

It’s frustrating how sick Wonwoo is starting to feel.  “Just because they’re flirting doesn’t mean he’s doing it to…”  He trails off.  “I haven’t been leading him on,” he says weakly, but he feels a small twinge of something other than nausea in his gut anyway as he watches them.

Hansol stops the blender and grabs a glass.  He pours the drink he’s made, sticks a straw into it, and hands it off to a customer, then returns to Wonwoo’s side.  “None of _that_ was going on until you came in, and he’s been looking your way ever since you got here to see if you’re paying attention, so.”

And now he _is_ paying attention.  He watches as Minghao laughs at something Soonyoung has said, throwing his head back.  He says something back to Soonyoung, who cocks his head in confusion.  Minghao says whatever it was again, and Soonyoung shakes his head, gesturing to his ear and leaning halfway across the bar.  This time Minghao says it with his mouth right next to Soonyoung’s ear, and when he does, Soonyoung’s eyes raise slowly to meet Wonwoo’s.  Wonwoo thinks maybe he sees one of Soonyoung’s eyebrows raise just a fraction, and he’s determined not to be the first to look away.  He has no idea what his facial expression is doing, thinks it can’t possibly be very dignified, but he holds Soonyoung’s gaze anyway.  Minghao finishes what he was saying, and Soonyoung turns back to him, putting one hand on his shoulder and leaning up to whisper in _his_ ear.  Wonwoo’s nostrils flare at that, and he exhales hard.  His mind flickers to the first night he saw Josh and Seungcheol together, and how they’d done much the same thing.  How it had made him feel.  How it was nothing like this.  Actually, comparing all of how he feels for Soonyoung to what he feels for Josh, they're incredibly different.  The realization slams into him once and for all that he’s been right all along, that whatever it is he’s been feeling about Josh for the past year hasn’t been love or even like no matter what his co-workers say.  He feels very annoyed, and a little validated, but mostly—yeah.  Jealous.  Fuck.  He turns to Hansol, who looks up at him, eyebrows raising at Wonwoo’s expression.

“Hansol.”

“Yes?”

“Tell your boyfriend my guy is off limits.”

 

 

> **HEAVEN IS A PLACE ON EARTH (1987)**  
>  in the style of BELINDA CARLISLE  
>  bpm: 123 | key: E | 4:06

It’s only after Wonwoo has exhausted his capacity for feeling like a fucking idiot that he realizes how good it feels not to be confused anymore.

Or at least, not in regards to Josh.  Soonyoung is another matter altogether.  Kind of.  Wonwoo can reluctantly accept that he has a crush.  He can't ignore how quickly and effectively Soonyoung’s stupid jealousy shenanigan had worked on him, and he had really, really wanted to kiss him that night.  Whether he has _feelings_ for him or not—Wonwoo is trying his very best to reserve judgment on that for another day.  He’s still not totally sure where Soonyoung stands, and he wants to know that before he lets himself entertain the possibility of feelings.  Their last interactions had been less than positive, and he’d really love to not be stuck pining for another two years.

But, he's saving that for later.

For now, there’s Josh, who’s been looking at him funny all evening.  They’re both off tonight, but they’ve got an inspection coming up soon, so they’ve been sequestered in the back office catching up on paperwork and other awful manager things.  Wonwoo thinks he must have “I HAVE A CRUSH ON SOMEONE WHO ISN’T JOSHUA HONG” stamped across his face judging by how many times he’s caught him staring.  It’s been quiet between them for weeks, since Wonwoo had blown up at him, so he thinks Josh is probably trying to figure out whether to try to make small talk, but it’s driving Wonwoo crazy.  It’s stuffy in the office, even with the fan they’ve got turned up all the way, and the shitty, crackly radio Josh has playing Belinda Carlisle barely loud enough to hear somehow makes it worse, and Josh’s eyes on him definitely don’t help.

“Whatever you’re thinking about saying,” starts Wonwoo, glancing up just long enough to see Josh chewing on his pencil and looking at him again, “You might as well go ahead and say it.”

Josh hurriedly sets his pencil back to paper.  “What?  I’m not.  I’m not doing anything.”

Wonwoo rolls his eyes.  “Josh.”  He closes his laptop.  “We’re going to have to have this out eventually, you know.  We might as well do it now.”

The fan rattles for a second and Josh bites the inside of his cheek.  He looks down, then speaks.

“I’ve been trying,” he says.  “I’ve been trying to give you space?  I’m not sure if that’s what you wanted.  But I’ve been trying.”  He clears his throat and looks up at Wonwoo.  “I didn’t want things to change between us.  I didn’t consider the fact that things had already changed for you, or...that they would probably need to change again so you could move on.  You—” he looks back down and he looks like he’s trying not to cry.  “You were my best friend and I didn’t want to lose you.  It was selfish.  I’m sorry.”

Wonwoo exhales hard after a second, because that’s a lot more than he was expecting.

“You don’t have to forgive me.  You don’t even have to say anything.”

“Josh, fuck off.  We haven’t gone a year and a half without having this conversation for me to stub up and not let anything get resolved.”  Josh is quiet, seemingly waiting for Wonwoo to continue.  “It’s alright.  I do forgive you.  It was pretty bad, what you did.  I guess—I don’t know.  It would have been weird anyway, I think, because of work.”

“It would have been less weird if I hadn’t been such an asshole.”

Wonwoo laughs.  “Maybe.”  He pauses, looking down at the clutter on Josh’s desk, but he steels himself and looks him in the eyes again.  “I’m over you.  I don’t think you’ve ever thought I was, and no one else here does either.  But I am.”

Josh looks contemplative again.  “So it’s helped?  Me letting you be?”

Wonwoo cocks his head.  “I mean, yes, but I was over you before that.  I just didn’t really realize it fully.  And there’s been—ugh.”  He grimaces.  “There’s been other contributing factors.”

He watches Josh’s eyebrows raise, and a tiny smile play on his lips.  “Oh?”  The smile fades quickly, though, and he shakes his head.  “Are we—I mean, are we...friends again?  Enough that you want to talk to me about this?  You don’t have to.”

_Are you really over me, am I a factor in this issue, we don’t have to talk about this if your feelings for me are involved,_ is what he’s pretty sure Josh is really saying.

He is, Josh isn’t, and they could.  But he doesn’t want to talk about this with Josh before he talks about it with Soonyoung.

“We are.  But I’m still figuring it out.”

Josh smiles.  “Say no more.”  He looks away for just a second, then leans forward a little and whispers, “But it’s your regular, right?  The one with the hair?”  Wonwoo fixes him with a look, and Josh raises one eyebrow.  “Huh.  Mike Rophone works in mysterious ways,” he says, leaning back and returning to his work.  Wonwoo thinks he’s probably blushing, but it’s the most comfortable it’s been between them in months.  

He takes a minute and just watches Josh—how the fan ruffles the edges of his hair, how his eyelashes fan out when he looks down at his paperwork, how the corners of his mouth are always softly turned up, and he feels—nothing.  Normal.  Maybe a little nostalgic, hopeful that they can be friends again.  But his heart doesn’t stutter or speed up or skid to a halt, his skin doesn’t tingle, his ears don’t go red.  It’s just Josh.  It’s not Soonyoung.

He sighs, half relieved, half wary of the fact that he’s going to have to have a conversation with Soonyoung at some point, and starts to mull over how he can possibly start _that_ when Josh looks up suddenly.

“Let’s stop.  This sucks.”  Wonwoo looks at the clock—it’s nearly midnight.  Josh glances down at his phone.  “Seungcheol is out with some friends.  I thought I might join?  And...you can come if you want?  If it’s not weird.”

Honestly, anything to get his mind off the Soonyoung issue.

“Sure.”

Josh relaxes visibly.  “Cool.”

 

Seungcheol and his friends end up being at some club near Wonwoo’s apartment building, and Wonwoo misses his cheesy hole in the wall karaoke bar as soon as they step inside.  The music has too much bass and not enough jangly guitars and just completely the wrong kind of synth for Wonwoo’s taste, and the flashing lights are ridiculous.  When he and Josh find Seungcheol and his friends, they’re in one of those rounded booths Wonwoo hates, because if one person wants to get up, everyone has to get up.  Josh leans down to give Seungcheol a kiss before sitting down next to him, and Wonwoo looks at the other two people in the booth—one he doesn’t know, and one he absolutely recognizes.  Soonyoung’s roommate Chan is here, and as he sees Wonwoo his eyes go wide before he looks away and then back at Wonwoo with an incredibly skeptical look on his face.  Wonwoo slides into the booth and sits down beside him as Seungcheol introduces him to Chan and the other boy—Jihoon—neither them nor Seungcheol says much else.  Chan pulls out his phone and starts typing furiously.  That’s not a good sign, Wonwoo thinks.

He only just has time to register it, though; Chan has barely gotten his phone out when Soonyoung approaches the table.

“The bathrooms here are—oh.”  His hair is bright orange, seeming to radiate even in the dim light of the club.  It doesn’t match the dark, nervous look he’s giving Wonwoo.

Wonwoo scooches over a little so Soonyoung has room to sit down.  He does, reluctantly, glaring at Seungcheol the whole time.  They seem to have a conversation with their eyes, and the entire table sits in silence.

Jihoon speaks up first.  “Chan,” he says.  “We aren’t involved in whatever this is.  Let’s go dance.”  He ducks underneath the table so no one has to move, and Chan looks at Soonyoung for a second before sighing and following.

It’s another second before Seungcheol clears his throat.  “So.  Wonwoo.”  He looks extremely uncomfortable.  “Didn’t know you’d be joining us.”  He shoots Josh a look at that, and Josh gives a tiny shake of his head.  Soonyoung takes a large swig of his cocktail.

A vague memory stirs in Wonwoo’s mind.  “Your mutual friend?” he says quietly.

Soonyoung presses his mouth into a flat line, without looking up from the table.  “Yup.”

Wonwoo looks around at everyone before rolling his eyes.  This is so much more awkward than it needs to be.  “Okay.  Seungcheol, I’m sorry it wasn’t formally announced that I would be coming.”  Seungcheol’s eyes go wide.  “But you don’t have anything to worry about.  Me and Josh—our stuff has never been about you.  Also, there’s not really any stuff?  Hasn’t been for awhile, I don’t think.   _Definitely_ none now.  So if you’d like to be friends, that’s cool with me.”  Josh is smiling gently, and raises his eyebrows at Seungcheol when he shoots him a helpless, confused look.  He looks back at Wonwoo, mouth hanging open just a little.

“I...okay?”

Wonwoo’s nostrils flare in frustration.  “I’m not in love with your god damn boyfriend, is what I’m trying to say.”

To Wonwoo’s right, Soonyoung chokes on his drink.  Across the table, Josh lets out a yell of laughter and dissolves into giggles.

Seungcheol laughs as well, a little incredulously, looking nervously between Josh and Wonwoo.  “Cool,” he says.  “Okay.  Good to know.”  He turns back to Josh, who glances at Wonwoo, then makes a face like he realizes something.

“Wonwoo and I are good, now,” he says, looking at Seungcheol, but it’s overly loud, with lots of exaggerated facial expressions.  “There are no lingering feelings.  I apologized, and we’ve worked things out, and he’s no longer confused about anything, ever.  He’s enlightened.”  He looks over at Wonwoo and winks.  “Now come on.  We need to go do something elsewhere.”  He drags a very bewildered Seungcheol up and out of the booth, waving at Wonwoo over his shoulder as they leave Soonyoung and Wonwoo alone.

They sit awkwardly for a minute or two, which Wonwoo hates.  It’s never been awkward with them.

“I didn’t know you were going to be here,” he says slowly.  “I wouldn’t have just shown up out of nowhere on purpose.”

Soonyoung answers immediately, though not to anything Wonwoo has just said.  “Was that true?”  He looks away from the table, finally meeting Wonwoo’s eyes.  “About Josh?”

“I told you forever ago I wasn’t in love with him.”

He shakes his head.  “Sorry.  I know you did.  That just seemed...I mean, you sounded _extremely_ confident.”

“Well.  I am.”  It seems to break at least some of the tension, as Soonyoung smiles hesitantly at him.  It’s quiet again between them, but it’s nowhere near as uncomfortable.

Soonyoung seems to be more at ease as well, as he relaxes back into the booth and sips his drink.  “I fucking hate clubs.”  He looks around, scowling slightly.  “They put orange juice in my stupid sex on the stupid beach.  I much prefer bars where the employees know my drinks.”

Wonwoo chuckles.  “Well, Minghao’s working tonight,” he says lightly.  “You could always go visit him.”

Soonyoung can tell he’s half-joking, and looks at him with an embarrassed smile.  “I—probably deserved that.”  His smile fades.  “I’m sorry.  About that.  It was stupid.”

Wonwoo contemplates carefully before responding.  “It’s alright.  I think it...had the desired effect, so.”  He feels his ears go red, and Soonyoung looks at him carefully.

“Do you want to leave?” he asks suddenly.  “I seriously hate it in here.”

“I hate it too,” Wonwoo says.  “But are you sure we should just go?”

Soonyoung cranes his neck, turning his head this way and that, searching the club.  “I mean, Chan is totally going to try to get laid tonight, I barely even know Jihoon, and Seungcheol and Josh are sucking face already.”  He flops back into his seat.  “It’s just you and me, basically.”

It sounds like a lot of excuses.  Wonwoo doesn’t find himself caring.  “Sure.  Let’s go.”

Soonyoung beams, and Wonwoo’s stomach does backflips.

They leave, and Wonwoo glances around when they step outside.  “Where are we going?”

Soonyoung turns toward him.  “Well, I know this great karaoke bar…”  Wonwoo laughs out loud, which makes Soonyoung look ridiculously proud of himself.  “I don’t know.  There’s a possibility I didn’t think this through.  I don’t even really have a ride home, technically, if I leave with you.”

“You really don’t.  Josh and I took a bus.”  Wonwoo takes a deep breath.  “My place is close.”  He points.  “Like right over there.”

Soonyoung looks at him, then down at the ground, smiling.  “I remember.”

“So, if you just wanted to...hang out...”  He tries to say it casually despite not feeling casual about it in the slightest.  “You could crash, I guess.”  Soonyoung’s eyebrows shoot up into his bangs before he gets his expression under control.

“Okay.” 

 

 

> **YOUR SONG (1970)  
>  in the style of ELTON JOHN  
>  bpm: 120 | key: Eb | 4:03**

There’s a soft breeze blowing as they walk the short distance to Wonwoo’s apartment, matched by an equally soft smile on Soonyoung’s face.  The awkwardness from earlier has dissolved stunningly quick, and now things feel like before—or, they kind of do.  Wonwoo has never felt quite this nervous around Soonyoung, his heart never quite this fluttery.  He could so easily reach out and take Soonyoung’s hand, or sling an arm around him and pull him close as they walk, and the thought makes his heart even more fluttery.  He could stop Soonyoung, shove him against the nearest building and kiss his brains out, too, but doing so wouldn’t feel right, he doesn’t think.  Besides, he’s not _planning_ for anything to happen between them tonight (despite inviting him to his apartment?  There’s logic here somewhere, he’s sure of it,)  and he’s trying to keep his expectations low.  Shoving his tongue down Soonyoung’s throat would probably not be the smartest move.

So Wonwoo just leads him up to his apartment, replaying every time he and Soonyoung have touched in his head in an attempt to stave off the urge to grab his hand.  It makes things worse.

When they enter, Wonwoo opts to turn on the lamp instead of the overhead light, making the whole room warm and glowy.  Consequently, it also makes Soonyoung warm and glowy, and Wonwoo almost turns it off and goes for the overhead after all, but doesn’t know how he’d explain it.  

Soonyoung looks around, and Wonwoo feels oddly exposed.  His gaze lands on the coffee table, and he raises his eyebrows.  “You saved my note?”

Oh.  Right.  Soonyoung has been here before.  “Ah.”  And Wonwoo saved his note.  “I guess so.”

“Cute.”  There’s tension.  Not that there hasn’t always been tension, looking back on their history, but this feels different.  More.  “Bathroom?”

It takes Wonwoo a few quick heartbeats before he blinks and responds.  “Through there.”  Soonyoung gives a slow nod, then disappears in the direction Wonwoo had pointed.  Wonwoo takes the opportunity to desperately look around for anything else incriminating, but finds nothing, because he’s really not that interesting.  He sits on the couch and nervously bounces his leg up and down.

Incriminating or not, Soonyoung comes out of the bathroom still having managed to find something.  “Why do you have four black nail polishes?” he asks.  He’s standing across the room, still, and sits the bottles one by one on the top of Wonwoo’s bookshelf.

“Because.  They're _different_.”  He gets so tired of having to explain this.  Being goth is exhausting.  “You have no idea how hard it is trying to match all my black clothes to each other, let alone to my nails.”

Soonyoung chuckles brightly.  “Whatever you say.”  Wonwoo watches as Soonyoung picks one up, examining it.  “Do you only have black?”  He looks down at himself, then back at Soonyoung, deadpanning spectacularly.  “Right.  Dumb question.”  Soonyoung chews on his lip for a second.  “Which one’s the best?”

Wonwoo glances over from the couch, craning his neck and squinting to see the bottles in the dim light.  “The one you’re holding.”

Soonyoung smiles, eyes twinkling.  He tosses the bottle to Wonwoo, who manages to catch it.  

“This costs like ten dollars, it’s not a frisbee—“

Soonyoung crosses the room and flops down on the couch next to him.  He holds his hands out in Wonwoo’s direction, wiggling his fingers.

“…You...want me to paint your nails?”

Soonyoung nods enthusiastically.

Wonwoo cocks an eyebrow at him, but he just starts nodding again, smiling even bigger.  Wonwoo thinks his heart might explode.

“Okay.”  He takes out his phone and puts on the playlist he’s made to familiarize himself with Soonyoung’s 70’s glam rock music taste, immensely enjoying the elation on Soonyoung’s face when he hears Elton John.  He rolls the bottle of nail polish between his hands a few times, adjusting himself so he’s facing Soonyoung on the couch and crossing his legs.  He opens the bottle and balances it on his knee, which Soonyoung eyes apprehensively.  “It won’t spill,” he says, noticing Soonyoung’s face.  “Don’t worry.  I’m a pro.”

Soonyoung holds out his right hand, and Wonwoo looks at it for a second before steadying it in his own.  It’s soft.  Right, he forgot.  Soonyoung has really soft hands.  He dips the brush into the bottle and tries to focus on Soonyoung’s fingernails, and not how soft his hands are, but it’s made difficult by the fact that he’s holding Soonyoung’s (soft) hand in his.  Soonyoung shifts a little on the couch and his knee ends up touching Wonwoo’s knee—also incredibly distracting.  Regardless, he doesn’t want to mess up Soonyoung’s nails, as this is kind of his wheelhouse, so he tries to ignore Soonyoung’s knee, and he tries not to notice the way Soonyoung’s fingers twitch almost nervously every time Wonwoo adjusts the position of his hand, and he definitely doesn’t think about how unfairly stupidly soft Soonyoung’s hand is on his or how it might feel touching other things.

When Wonwoo gets one hand finished, Soonyoung holds it out and preens.  “I am going to look so fucking cool.  Just, goth as hell.”  He places his hand carefully on his knee and sits up a little straighter, like it’s some honor to have his nails painted.  It’s stupidly endearing.

“All you need is some eyeliner and you’ll be goth enough to join The Cure.”

“The who?”

“What?  No.”  Wonwoo shakes his head.  “The Who didn’t wear eyeliner.”  Soonyoung looks thoroughly confused.  “Oh.  You meant—sorry.  The Cure is a band from the 80’s.  Pioneers of goth rock and post-punk.”  

“Goth _and_ punk?”  He seems impressed.  It’s sweet.  “Wow.  So lots of eyeliner.”

Wonwoo laughs.  “Lots.”

“Are they any good?”

Wonwoo looks up, smiling softly.  “They’re my favorite.”

“You’ll have to let me hear them some time,” Soonyoung says casually, like he has no idea what he’s just said or how it went straight to Wonwoo’s heart.

Jesus.  He’s really this head over heels.

He takes Soonyoung’s other hand then, has a very quick internal breakdown because it’s even softer than the first, and sets back to his task.  He looks up every now and then to see Soonyoung staring at him.  He doesn’t even have the decency to look away once he’s caught; they just trade tiny smiles and Wonwoo keeps going.  They stay quiet for awhile, and eventually, the hand that’s been drying on Soonyoung’s knee moves, just a bit, stretches forward until his middle three fingers rest lightly against Wonwoo’s leg.  Wonwoo focuses all his efforts into not looking up at Soonyoung, or down at his hand.  He thinks he can feel his ears going red.  He definitely feels Soonyoung tap at his leg.

“Wonwoo.”

He replies without looking up.  “Yes?”

“Remember how I tried to kiss you?”  Oh god.  He nearly drops the brush, but he still doesn’t look up, just nods.  “I never got the full story.  Could you maybe…give me some details?”

Wonwoo pauses for one oppressively silent second, then takes what he hopes was not a terribly noticeable deep breath to steady himself.  “There’s not really that many.  You tried to kiss me and I stopped you because you were drunk.”

“Because I was drunk.”  Wonwoo nods.  He’s so close to being finished with Soonyoung’s nails and he really doesn’t want to be talking about their almost kiss while holding his hand.  He might disintegrate.  “Not because you didn’t want to?”

It’s enough of a shock that Wonwoo does look up this time, though he instantly regrets it.  There’s no hint of sarcasm or mockery in Soonyoung’s question or his expression; he just looks genuinely curious.  Wonwoo doesn’t look away.  “…You were extremely drunk.”

Soonyoung looks at him for a second, then grins, but doesn’t say anything.  He looks back down at their hands and grins even more.

Wonwoo huffs.  “I tried to explain that, you know.  You didn’t listen.  I don’t know what you’re looking so pleased with yourself for.”

“Nothing,” Soonyoung says, but the smile has spread all the way across his face.  “Maybe I just like getting my nails painted.”

Wonwoo rolls his eyes, unable to stop his own smile.  “Right.”  He looks back down at Soonyoung’s last unpainted fingernail.  He can still feel Soonyoung watching him, but he finds he doesn’t mind that much.

“This is my favorite hair color yet, by the way.”

“Really?”  Wonwoo glances up and Soonyoung is looking up into his orange bangs. “I thought you liked purple?”

So he _had_ been asking Hansol about him.  “I do.  But on you, I like this.”  

“Everyone hates this hair.”  He looks back at Wonwoo and pouts.  “The girls at work keep calling me carrot top.”

“I think it suits you.”  He finishes up Soonyoung’s pinky, letting go of his hand almost reluctantly.  “Done.”

“Well, don’t tell anyone, but you’re the only one I’m really worried about.”  Soonyoung looks over and winks at him, which is really something.  “Thanks for the manicure.”

Wonwoo thinks sex might have been less intimate than the last 20 minutes.

Soonyoung stretches his fingers out in front of him to admire Wonwoo’s work, then leans forward to gingerly pick his phone up off the coffee table.  When he straightens up again, his bangs have fallen into his eyes, and he shakes his head a few times, then tries to blow them out of the way.  “Wonwoo,” he whines, situating himself so he’s facing Wonwoo on the couch again.  “My nails aren’t dry.”

He looks up at Soonyoung, swallowing hard when he realizes what Soonyoung expects him to do, but he does it anyway.  Soonyoung’s hair is soft—of course it is—and he gets this _look_ in his eyes as Wonwoo gently moves his hair back into place.  It’s the same one from the time they almost kissed, the same questioning nervousness.  Wonwoo hesitates for just a second, deciding if he’s brave enough for this, then decides—who cares.  He lets his fingers trail feather-light down the side of Soonyoung’s face and along his jaw.  Soonyoung’s breath hitches magnificently.

“Fuck.  Wonwoo.  You have to stop.”

Wonwoo pulls his hand away lightning fast, his heart dropping into his stomach.  “Sorry, I’m sorry.  I thought—sorry.  That was stupid.”

“No, shut up, you just have to stop _touching_ me like that—I can’t even touch you back because I...my nails.”  There’s the tiniest dusting of pink spreading across Soonyoung’s cheeks.

There’s silence while Wonwoo tries to recover from the emotional whiplash.  “Your nails.”

“I mean, I don’t want to mess them up.”

Wonwoo stares at Soonyoung, incredulous.  There’s only so much he can take.

Slowly, he reaches for Soonyoung’s hands.  He pushes them up and back, so his arms bend at the elbow and his hands are just above his shoulders, fingers spread apart.  “Oh,” says Soonyoung, so softly it’s barely there, and Wonwoo kisses him.

It surprises him, how right it feels to finally be doing this.  After weeks of not realizing, of not being sure—yeah.  It really, really feels right.  Soonyoung keeps his hands up, but leans forward and kisses back.  It’s slow, and careful.  Soonyoung keeps shifting on the couch and Wonwoo gets the impression he’s struggling with not using his hands.  He breaks their kiss for a second, laughing silently, and Soonyoung makes a sad, dissatisfied sound.  “This is torture,” he says, shifting up onto his knees and carefully testing one of his nails—it leaves a small black dot on his finger.  His shoulders slump in frustration.  “Piece of _shit_ , Wonwoo.  How long does it take?”  He pouts.  “My arms are tired.”

Wonwoo snickers.  “Just—come here.”  Soonyoung raises his eyebrows at him.  “Come _here._ ”  Soonyoung complies, moving toward Wonwoo on his knees—when he’s close enough, Wonwoo grabs his waist and yanks him down onto his lap, pulling him flush against him.

“I think this is gonna make things worse,” Soonyoung whines, but he kisses Wonwoo again anyway, more insistent this time.  It’s over too quickly, though, after Wonwoo licks into his mouth and he makes a strangled noise and pulls away, hands still raised.  “God.  Oh my _god_.  I forgot.”  He shakes his head, looking distressed.  “Tongue ring.”  It’s then that he drops his arms, carefully placing his hands on the back of the couch.  Wonwoo cackles, and Soonyoung tucks his face into the crook of his neck.  “We have to stop or I’ll die,” he says, muffled into Wonwoo’s shirt.  He raises his head up and fake-sobs.

Wonwoo stretches up so he can kiss Soonyoung one more time, this one short, and devoid of tongue ring.  “I should probably go to bed anyway.”  Soonyoung grins down at him before climbing off his lap, still taking care not to bump his nails on anything.

“I’m still sleeping on the couch,” he announces as Wonwoo stands up.  “I’m not as easy as I just...very successfully made myself seem.”  Wonwoo cannot stop smiling.  “‘Night, stud.”

“Good night, Soonyoung.”

 

The next morning, Wonwoo exits his bedroom to find Soonyoung already awake.  He’s concentrating very hard on something on his phone.  “Morning.  Your couch is the bomb,” he says without looking away.  

“I bet you say that to all the boys,” says Wonwoo, and Soonyoung laughs, loud.

“Are you insinuating I only go home with guys to sleep on their couches?”  He looks up at Wonwoo, and his smile shrinks.  It doesn’t disappear all the way, just gets softer.

“What?”

“Nothing.  It’s just weird seeing you...not at 2am.”

And, yeah, now that Soonyoung mentions it, that’s true.  And not just the fact that the sunshine streaming through Wonwoo’s living room window really, really agrees with him, although that’s certainly something Wonwoo could get used to.  It feels like everything around them and between them is different, and it makes Wonwoo feel a little light headed.

“Do you want coffee?”

“Sure.”  He yawns.  “I put my nails on instagram.  There’s tons of likes already.”

“Is that good?”

“Wh—yes, old man, surprisingly enough ‘likes’ are good.  You don’t have instagram?”  Wonwoo shakes his head.  “That’s a shame.  Your whole aesthetic would do really well on there.”  He taps his phone a few times and holds it out to Wonwoo.  “There’s comments too, look!”

Wonwoo takes the phone.  He has to squint to read the tiny text without his contacts in, and bursts out laughing when the words come into focus.

Soonyoung’s eyebrows furrow.  “What is it?”

“Chan underscore MJ 99 wants to know who did your nails, and if it was ‘that hot emo bartender who’s always driving you home—’”

Soonyoung lunges off the couch and snatches his phone back from Wonwoo.  “I hate him,” he says, shoving the phone in his pocket.  His face goes pink and he smiles, looking sheepish and a little like he wishes the ground would swallow him, but still—smiling.

Wonwoo smacks him lightly in the arm.  “Coffee, yeah?”  He heads into the kitchen.  “But you should tell your friend there are several subtle but important differences between emo and goth.”

 

 

> **TIME AFTER TIME (1984)  
>  in the style of CYNDI LAUPER  
>  bpm: 130 | key: C | 4:01**

Wonwoo takes Soonyoung home about an hour later.  The car ride to his place is when the shyness and nervousness sets in between them—it’s not uncomfortable or awkward, just new.  Whatever’s going on with them is new and it’s exciting and it makes Wonwoo feel a little dazed.  They don’t mention it, because—Wonwoo doesn’t know.  They just don’t.  Soonyoung reaches out and grabs the hand he doesn’t have on the steering wheel and doesn’t let go until they reach his apartment, and they don’t say anything.  It’s nice.  

They pull into the parking lot and Soonyoung lets go of Wonwoo’s hand so he can unbuckle his seatbelt.  He sits for a moment, smiling down at the floorboards of Wonwoo’s car.  “So.  Thanks for the ride.  And the...couch.”

“Anytime,” Wonwoo says.  It makes Soonyoung smile even wider, looking up at the car roof and shaking his head.

“Bye, Wonwoo,” he says with a laugh.  He gets out of the car, and starts walking toward the stairs.

Wonwoo watches him for a few seconds, before putting down his window and calling out “I’ll see you later?”

Soonyoung turns on his heel, smiling back at Wonwoo for a second, before scurrying back toward the car.  He leans through the window and pauses for just a second before kissing Wonwoo.  It’s quick, but it still makes Wonwoo’s heart feel too big for his chest. 

“You will definitely see me later,” says Soonyoung quietly, still staring at Wonwoo’s lips after he pulls away.

“I...good.  I’m glad.  I would like that.”

Soonyoung bites his lip, and drops his head for a second, making some pained noise between a groan and a squeal.  He lifts his head back up, grinning from ear to ear.  “God.  You are so cute.  It’s horrendous.  You have to leave before I die, from how cute you are.”  He stands up out of the window.  “Goodbye for real this time.  I’ll see you.”

“See you,” says Wonwoo.  “You’re really cute too!” he yells at Soonyoung’s back as he walks away.  He hears Soonyoung make another one of those noises, and watches him run up the stairs to his door.  Wonwoo drives away with his fingers already itching to hold Soonyoung’s again.

He heads home, but he can’t seem to sit still.  He cleans his entire apartment by the time he needs to leave for work, rearranges his book shelf, goes through his fridge—anything he can think of so he doesn’t go insane thinking about the memory of Soonyoung, on his couch, in his lap.

It helps, kind of.

What also helps is that the bar is incredibly busy.  All hands are on deck, even Josh, and Seungkwan has been pulled away from MCing to wait tables.  Hansol says there was some game that the university had won, or something—he barely registers what looks like a sports team’s worth of college age boys belting Time After Time at one point, and wishes things would have been calm enough for him to fully enjoy it.  Wonwoo is exhausted and disheveled by the time they close, and it takes them almost two hours after to get everything clean.  Josh sends everyone home, and thanks them for their hard work, and then it’s just the two of them.

Josh leans against a table, runs a hand through his hair, and exhales, visibly relaxing.  He looks up, giving Wonwoo a wry smile.  “So you and Soonyoung disappeared last night.”

Wonwoo rolls his eyes.  “Have you been waiting literally all night to ask me about that?”

“Yes.”

He crosses over and hops up onto the table Josh is leaned against.  “Nothing happened.”  Josh raises an eyebrow skeptically.  “Fine.  Something happened.  But honestly, nothing really happened.”  Wonwoo pauses.  “Things are in the process of happening, I think.”

Josh’s smile is bright and genuine.  “I’m happy for you.  Soonyoung is a babe.”  They both laugh softly, and then his smile fades.  “You like working here, right?”

Wonwoo furrows his eyebrows.  “Of course I do.  I—honestly, I think about all the other shitty places I could have ended up, and I’m so glad I’m here.”  He pauses for just a second, thinking.  “Even with...everything.”

There’s a long stretch of silence, and then Josh gives an enormous sigh, ruffling his hair again.  “Well, I need to tell you something.”

“Yeah?”

“I’m leaving,” he says.  “I’m moving.”  He smiles, soft, and looks down in that Josh way.  “I got offered a teaching job in Australia.”

“Australia.”  It takes a second for it to sink in, and even then Wonwoo isn’t sure how he feels.  “That’s…”  He takes a breath, lets it out shakily.  “That’s amazing.  Josh.  That’s so fucking cool.”  Josh still has that sad smile.  “What about Seungcheol?”

His smile gets a bit less sad.  “He’s coming with me.”

“Good.  He knows a good thing when he sees one, then,” Wonwoo says, and Josh looks like he's seconds away from crying.  “This place is going to go to shit without you,” Wonwoo jokes, and they both ignore how his voice cracks just the tiniest bit as he says it.

There’s a short pause as Josh stares at the ceiling and sniffles.  “Oh, I don’t know.  I think the new manager will be able to handle things.”  He looks back at Wonwoo.  “If I can convince him to accept a promotion.”

Wonwoo raises his eyebrows.  “Me?”

“Well, yes.  Obviously.”

The bar seems simultaneously bigger and smaller as Wonwoo looks around for a second.  He smiles.  “Yeah.  Yeah.  Of course.”  Josh beams at him.  “When do you leave?”

“Not for another month.  But this was my last shift here, I think.”  Wonwoo just nods.  “I’m glad we got things...straightened out.  Before I moved.”

“Me too.”

Josh isn’t leaving the country yet, but it still feels oddly final when he says good night to Wonwoo.  He flips the switch for the open sign off, pauses for a second, and then walks through the door.   He waves at Wonwoo through the glass once he’s on the other side and Wonwoo watches him walk away.  Wonwoo thinks he looks happy.  He seems happy.

Wonwoo feels happy too.  He thinks he does, anyway.  Suddenly being in charge of a whole business is kind of a lot to process.  He slowly walks toward the bar, hopping over and sitting on the floor behind it, and tries to take everything in.  After a few minutes, he hears the door unlock, open, and shut again.

“Did you forget something?” he calls out, but there’s no answer, just footsteps, then legs swinging over the bar and landing next to him, then Soonyoung sitting down beside him.

“Cannot believe I just harassed your boss in the street to let me in here.”  He exhales hard, as if he’s just run all the way there.  “Hi.”

Wonwoo couldn’t stop the smile that spreads across his face if he tried, so he doesn’t try.  “It’s 4am?  I mean, hi, but.  Why.  How did you even know I was here?”

“I—Josh has been updating Seungcheol who’s been updating me,” Soonyoung says, then cringes slightly.  “That sounds weirder than it is.  Josh has just been telling Seungcheol he’d be late getting back, and stuff.  And that you were here also.”  He shrugs.  “I knew it was busy, so I didn’t want to bother you.  But I still just—I really wanted to see you.”

“And you couldn’t wait until a normal time?”

Soonyoung scrunches up his face in response, then leans his head on Wonwoo’s shoulder, then sneaks his arm out from between them and links their hands.  He doesn’t say anything for a few seconds, and when he does speak his voice is tiny.  “I’ve been waiting for you to notice me for months, Wonwoo.”

Oh.  “Months?”  He really doesn’t know what to say to that, so he just leans his cheek on Soonyoung’s head.  He can smell his shampoo.

“Months,” says Soonyoung, idly rubbing at a stain on his jeans with his free hand.  “So, now that you have…”  He shifts a little, so Wonwoo lifts his head up, and then Soonyoung does the same, looking up at him.  He’s smiling.  “I’m just glad you finally came around, is all.”

They just look at each other for a bit, and Wonwoo thinks he’s probably grinning like an idiot.  “I’m glad too, you know.”  He really, really is.  “Also, I’m the manager now?”

“Wow?”  Soonyoung looks so happy for him, and it’s so genuine Wonwoo thinks he could melt.  “Why?”

“Josh is moving to Australia.”

There’s silence, then:  “That’s far.”

“It is.”

Soonyoung hesitates.  They’re still holding hands, and he moves his thumb gently back and forth over Wonwoo’s.  “Are you...okay?”

Wonwoo laughs.  “I mean, I’ll miss him.  But...yeah.  I am.”  He looks up at the shelves and shelves of liquor on the wall, at the rows of glasses, the racks of muddlers and shakers and strainers.  Then he looks down at Soonyoung’s hand in his.  Soonyoung nudges him.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah.  It’s just...I keep thinking about how I let everyone convince me that that’s what having feelings for someone was.  Just...being sad and...feeling awful all the time.”  He shakes his head.  “It’s not.  It’s…”  

This.  It’s this, but he can’t get the words out.

Soonyoung beams at him, though, and seems to get it.  “Yeah.  I know.”

 

 

> **FRIDAY I’M IN LOVE (1992)  
>  in the style of THE CURE  
>  bpm: 135 | key: D | 3:38**

An empty cineplex turns out to be a lot more interesting than an empty bar.  It also presents more of a challenge.  For one thing, there’s no risk of actually getting into trouble if they’re at the bar after hours, since Wonwoo is manager; hence why this is only the second time in the past four months that Soonyoung has snuck them in when the theater is closed.  The first time Soonyoung had planned for them to have a private movie date, he couldn’t figure out how to set up the movie, so they’d just ended up making out in the projection room.  After that Soonyoung had been determined to try again, and convinced his manager to train him on the projector—so this time, they’ve actually made it into the theater, and the movie is actually playing.  It’s some superhero thing Soonyoung picked out, and Wonwoo isn’t too terribly interested in it; and it’s a good thing, since they make it about 15 minutes before Soonyoung decides _he’s_ more interested in leaning over to catch Wonwoo’s earlobe between his teeth.  Wonwoo rolls his eyes, shifting in his seat as Soonyoung practically climbs over the armrest.

“I’m trying to watch a movie, you know,” he says, but Soonyoung just hums happily, kissing his way from Wonwoo’s ear down his jaw and pecking him once on the lips before leaning back just enough to look at him, smiling.  Wonwoo gently nudges him backward, pushing the armrest up and out of his way so he can press himself against Soonyoung unhindered.  Their mouths open against each other almost immediately, but Wonwoo still kisses Soonyoung slow—torturously so, if the tiny, frustrated noises Soonyoung is making are anything to go on.  His fingers dig into Wonwoo’s sides hard, twisting in the fabric of his shirt.  Wonwoo pulls away and Soonyoung exhales in annoyance.

“Wonwoo,” he says, and it’s half admonishment, half request.  Wonwoo smirks before ducking his head down to leave small kisses at the base of Soonyoung’s neck, then licks a long stripe up his throat—one of Soonyoung’s hands tangles in his hair and he whimpers softly as soon as the cold metal of Wonwoo’s tongue ring makes contact with his skin.  Wonwoo grins.

“You’re cute,” he murmurs against Soonyoung’s collarbone, sneaking one hand under Soonyoung’s shirt and trailing his fingers up and down his side.

“You’re the worst,” replies Soonyoung, sounding halfway destroyed already and inhaling sharply when Wonwoo’s lips return to his neck.

Wonwoo has Soonyoung practically melting into the seat and has his hands at Soonyoung’s waistband when his phone chimes, and Soonyoung lets out something between a whine and a growl when he stops to check it.  “That had better be incredibly important,” he huffs.

“It’s just Josh,” Wonwoo says, a little out of breath.  “He can wait.”  Soonyoung smiles, and Wonwoo is flush against him again in a second—there’s another _ding_ from his phone.  He ignores it, choosing instead to focus on Soonyoung’s tongue— _ding._  He moves one hand back to Soonyoung’s pants and pops the button—three more _dings_ in quick succession.

Soonyoung lets out a sigh of exasperation against Wonwoo’s mouth.  Wonwoo pulls back, breathing hard, looking as apologetic as he can in his current state.  “You haven’t heard from him in a couple of weeks,” Soonyoung says, sitting upright as Wonwoo does the same.  He lets out a shaky breath.  “You might as well see what he wants.”

It takes Wonwoo a second to tear his eyes away from the dotting of red marks he’s left along Soonyoung’s throat, but he manages.  

_ >   AYYYYYY WE THOUGHT YOU WOULD ENYJO THIS_  
_>   Josh sent a video._  
_>   Wnnowo_  
_>   WONWOWO!!!!!_  
_>   wonwoo.  
_ _>   Pleaes…………._

“Jesus,”  He looks up from his phone.  “Not worth stopping for.  He’s just drunk.”  Soonyoung laughs.  “There’s a video, though.”  Soonyoung raises his eyebrows at him, nodding, so he snuggles in close to Soonyoung and plays the file.  It’s dark, and he hears Seungcheol’s voice from somewhere behind the camera.

“—still pissed you dragged me all the way to Australia just to take me to another fucking karaoke bar.”

“Shut up and just do it, you cock,” comes Josh’s slurred answer, and Soonyoung snickers beside Wonwoo.  The music starts up, and Seungcheol seems to fumble with the phone before turning it on himself.

“We miss you Wonwoo—fuck,” he says, apparently having dropped his phone.

Even so, he still doesn’t seem as drunk as Josh, who comes into view after a few seconds, pointing into the camera, yelling “This one goes out to Jeon Wonwoo, our very favorite emo—”

Wonwoo’s nostrils flare.  “Oh my fucking _god_.”

Soonyoung giggles, shaking his head in amusement.  “I’m so sad I never got to experience drunk Josh.  He’s wild.”

They watch Josh flail around to the intro of the song, then start singing—he’s barely three words in when Soonyoung’s eyes light up in recognition.

“Friday I’m in Love,” Soonyoung says, softly.  “I know this one.”  He keeps his eyes on the screen, and quietly hums along to the music.  Wonwoo watches him and thinks he has maybe never been happier.

The video ends, and Soonyoung turns back to Wonwoo, who hasn’t looked away from him.  He raises an eyebrow.  “What?”

“You’re just my favorite.”  He swallows.  “And I love you.”  He thinks Soonyoung knows, so it’s not that he’s nervous, but they’ve never said it out loud before.

The lights from the projection of the movie flicker on Soonyoung’s face as it goes through possibly a thousand different emotions.  He looks like he might cry, then he takes a deep breath, and lowers his eyebrows at Wonwoo.  “Fuck off,” he says.  “Did you just confess your love because I recognized a Cure song?”

“I’ve changed my mind, I hate you, we’re breaking up.”

“Stop, oh my god, don’t joke about that,” Soonyoung says through laughter.  “I love you too.  God.  Fuck.”  His voice is quieter when he says it again.  “I love you.”  He’s back to looking like he wants to cry, so Wonwoo reaches up to stroke his cheek.

When Soonyoung leans toward him again, Wonwoo thinks how glad he is he ended up at Mike’s.  He thanks every deity he can think of for the bad singing, the awful customers, the endless cleaning, even Josh turning him down:  everything that should have driven him away that he stayed in spite of is what he’s grateful for when Soonyoung’s eyes drop down to his mouth and then back up to meet his gaze, a fraction of an inch away from his face.  When Wonwoo closes the space between them and feels Soonyoung smiling he thinks he could listen to Talk Dirty to Me sung drunkenly a thousand times over, and when he runs his tongue along Soonyoung’s bottom lip and Soonyoung opens his mouth for him he thinks he should probably see if there’s anyone on earth who is honest to god named Mike Rophone and send him a thank you note.

He works in mysterious ways, after all.

**Author's Note:**

> i'm @wonuza on twitter if you wanna holler at me about snwu, svt, tongue ring wonwoo, or anything else :3


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